


Picking Up the Pieces

by Losille



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 95,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losille/pseuds/Losille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the end of a terrible marriage, Anna is still trying to pick up the pieces of a life and heart left bruised and shattered.  She didn't realize she would end up needing someone else to help her put the pieces back together until she met Tom.</p><p>COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive this indulgence in starting a Tom fic before my other fics here are completed. I just couldn't get this out of my head.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm an American writing from a British guy's POV, with a story based in England. I do my best to use the right vernacular, but it's not perfect and I haven't slaved over it. Still, I hope you enjoy the story.

There was no sound more relaxing in the world to him than that of the pound of his feet on the pavement and the thump of the beat of the music in his ears. The rhythm did a fair job of making him concentrate on the moment and his movements without worrying about all the external sources that constantly drew his attention and energy. Or, if necessary, as it was today, the repetitive sounds at least allowed him the ability to work things out in his head. 

Considering the whirlwind that his life had become, he’d needed something to tether him to reality. Every morning he woke up looking forward to this quiet time where he could be alone with his thoughts and concentrate on himself. This morning run was the one constant he could always count on—no matter where he was—whether it was in the Moroccan desert or Central Park.

Unfortunately, today’s morning run had turned into an afternoon run, and he’d felt scattered all day because of it. Filming had ended later than expected and he’d slept too late when Luke woke him to be carted off to a few interviews before being dropped at his flat where his roommate had commandeered the majority of the shared living space for a project she was completing for a class. He had willingly and perhaps a little too excitedly pulled on his running clothes, grabbed his iPod and escaped into the lovely British afternoon to reclaim some of the peace he had lost not getting this exercise in earlier.

The clouds from the morning had reasonably burned off when he’d started, but they seemed to be creeping back into the sky and threatening rain now. A delightful autumn chill in the air made him shiver even with the heat of the workout in his veins and the warmth of his clothing. Late autumn runs were his favorite. Nothing could compare to how alive he felt with the slight burn of the cold air in his lungs and the biting whip of the wind on his face. It was glorious.

He had tried a different park today, closer to Chris’ and Elsa’s new place. When he’d gone over to visit them the other day, he’d taken time to stop and admire the bright reds, oranges and gold in the trees. It was just a small heath in one of the more secluded, quiet neighborhoods, but the change of scenery was exactly what he needed to recharge and focus.

As he ran a second lap along one of the dedicated paths, he rehearsed the lines for the scene they would film that night. He knew that he’d have the script with him on set and didn’t have to memorize everything, but theatre training died hard. It was a compulsion now to read, reread and commit all the lines to memory. Though it wasn’t technically switching off and relaxing with his run, it did allow him to block everything else out around him and concentrate on the formation of the words on his lips.

He was halfway through his argument with Thor, however, when he made the realization that he should have paid more attention to his surroundings instead of losing himself in his thoughts. Out of nowhere, as he rounded a thick copse of trees where the leaves had not yet fallen, a hard body collided with him at full speed. He felt like he’d been hit by a car as he crashed to the ground, rolled a bit and the person who had hit him landed sprawled across his body. It took him a few good seconds to orient himself with his new position laying flat on the ground looking up at the gray sky. And the fact that the person lying on him was a woman.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she said instantly, scrambling against him to get up. In the process, an elbow jabbed him in the gut and a knee narrowly missed his groin.

“Oof." He grabbed for her arms and helping her to move off of him as he caught his breath.

The woman glanced at him quickly from beneath a curtain of straight blonde hair, her eyes growing wide. “Jesus Christ… you’re bleeding.”

He thought for a moment that she recognized him, but she was clearly only focused on the blood and injury she had caused him. She quickly reached up and used the edge of her shirtsleeve to dab carefully at his cut lip. He tasted the blood now and flicked his tongue out. It stung and he winced. She withdrew her hand and sat back on her heels.

“I feel like an idiot,” she said, brushing a piece of hair behind an ear. 

This action revealed to him a pretty face. Her soft brown eyes were still riddled with concern, but his attention was drawn to the prominent, harsh scar that ran the length of her left cheek from the edge of a perfectly arched eyebrow to level with the corner of her mouth. It was so incongruous with the soft beauty of the rest of her face, that it was difficult not to notice and wonder how she had received such a thing.

She noticed his overt curiosity and the mood between them became even more awkward. Cheeks enflamed, she blinked her eyes and quickly turned away from his direct line of sight to hide her cheek again. 

Despite his embarrassment and poor manners over the whole situation, his body took notice of her body as she carefully regained her footing and brushed herself off of plant debris. She wasn’t particularly thin, but she wasn’t round either. She had curves and the tight black trousers and long sleeved shirt accentuated that. It would have been just enough flesh for him to dig his fingers into; just the way he liked it.

The woman turned back to him and blushed again, offering her hand to help him up. He reluctantly took it, thinking he’d rather stay lying on the ground watching her. 

“Are you okay?” she asked as he stood and looked around for his iPod. The armband had come undone and it lay on the ground with his ear buds still attached,.

He bent down to pick it up and then turned to her. “I’m fine. I think my body’s still in shock though. Are you alright? I wasn’t paying attention.”

She laughed lightly. “I’m fine. I should be the one apologizing, not you. I got so wrapped up in my own thoughts…”

“I think that makes us both equally to blame,” he said.

“Well, I still haven’t learned how to drive here. I don’t know which side to be on. Terribly American, you know?” She motioned to the pre-painted markings on the concrete path for foot traffic. “Let’s blame that, mostly.”

Tom chuckled, finding that their collision had indeed happened at an intersection of the foot path. She’d been jogging in the wrong direction. “Fair enough.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

He moved his body. Everything worked just fine. And the music on his iPod was still blaring with the earphones. “I’m great. Are you?”

“I, um, think my pride’s hurt worse than my body,” she said.

A quiet rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and she turned her head, looking in that direction. Her long hair shifted away from her cheek and he saw the scar again. Whatever had inflicted the mark had been awhile ago as it was well healed over, but it still piqued his curiosity. 

“I guess that means we ought to be going on our way,” she murmured.

He nodded his head, but paused to ask, “You jog here often?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “It’s a new thing I’m trying out. Maybe?”

“This is a good park,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

The woman chuckled. “Maybe. Have a good rest of your day…”

“Tom,” he said. “I’m Tom.”

She offered her hand. “Anna.”

He shook her hand and smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, Anna.”

Anna grinned shyly and rolled her eyes. Visible lightning flickered nearer to them followed by a louder rumble of thunder. “Alright, that’s my cue. Have a good afternoon, Tom.”

With that, she waved one last time and started off again on a slow jog. He sighed and watched her go, disappearing behind another grouping of bushes and trees. Something told him to go after her, but he stopped himself when a steady rain began to fall on him. He’d just have to come back another day and attempt to run into her. Though he was pretty sure, judging from her embarrassment, that she was going to make every attempt to bypass this park in the future.

“Oh, well,” he muttered and gathered his things, leaving the park for his flat.

\----

When Anna reached the safety of her tiny apartment, she shut the door and pressed back against the wood, trying to catch her breath. She wished it was because of her jog that she had to do it, but she knew the familiar signs of a panic attack. Her chest was tightening up and she felt scattered. Helpless. Lowering onto the ground, she placed her head between her knees and tried to quell the rapid beating of her heart and the unrelenting voice in her head telling her to feel scared.

She knew, logically, she shouldn’t be anxious. There was nothing wrong with the situation that had just taken place outside with the nice man she had mistakenly run into while jogging. It was normal. But in her version of how “normal” was going to go today, it hadn’t involved a handsome actor being a complete gentleman to her despite her tendencies toward absentmindedness. And she definitely didn’t expect to feel any attraction to anyone today when she’d decided to get out of the house. All she’d wanted was to take a jog.

With a sigh, she finally felt her heart returning to normal and breathing evening out. At least these damn attacks weren’t as forceful or as horrible as they _had_ been before she’d found Dr. Stuart last year. She continued to talk herself down from it, using the methods the psychologist had given her a few months ago to combat the debilitating anxiety. 

Finally at peace, she lifted her head and rested it against the door. She stretched her legs out, but a muscle in her right ankle contracted angrily at the movement, reminding her that she’d twisted it mid-collision and she probably shouldn’t have run on it back to her flat. But she’d done it to both get away from Tom and to get out of the rain. She’d only been successful with one of those things, as the rain had drenched her down to the skin.

Anna reached for the hem of her shirt but stopped when she saw the blood that had seeped into the fibers. Why had she reached up to clean it? It hadn’t been that bad. He could have done it himself. She’d been unable to stop herself from the unthinking reaction. Now all she could think about were his laughing blue-green eyes. They’d been laughing _at_ her. That was until they saw the scar on her cheek. Then they’d become sober and inquisitive. Full of pity. He’d wanted to know what had made the permanent mark. Just like everyone else who looked at her these days.

The telephone ringing in the other room stopped her train of thought, for which she was grateful. It would only make her feel worse. She rose up onto her legs and gingerly moved along the wood flooring until she reached her office. There she dropped onto the swivel desk chair and grabbed the phone, placing it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my dear,” said the soft voice on the other end. It was a voice that had been a great deal of comfort to her over the past couple years, but it was also one that now drove her up a wall because of its insistence in mentioning business. Just hearing it made her shudder.

“Hey, Eddie,” she said.

“How are you, love?”

Anna shrugged though it wasn’t for his benefit. “Are you asking because you are genuinely interested in how I’m doing or because you’re going to try to convince me to do a show?”

He paused and sighed as though he was long-suffering. Maybe he was. She’d not been making him much money these past few years as she recuperated from her nightmare. Greater managers had dropped clients for lesser offenses. “I am asking for both reasons.”

“I can say that I went out of the house today, so that was good,” she replied. “But I can also say that no, I am not ready to go back. I don’t know if I can ever go back.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“You know why.”

“No, actually I don’t,” he said. “You’re still an amazing musician. You have amazing talent. You’ve battled through your problems and come out stronger because of it. People want to see that and rally behind you.”

“This is stronger?” The incredulity in her voice was thick. She thought back to just a few seconds ago when she’d felt her world closing up around her in another attack. “Screw you, Eddie. You don’t get to sit in your fucking Manhattan office, telling me that I’m stronger and need to get back to work. Let’s see you live through what I’ve lived through, then we’ll discuss it.”

His end of the line was silent.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said finally. “You have been more than obliging about this whole situation and I don’t know what I’d do without you, but I’m just not ready to go back.”

“Babe, I understand. I’m here for you,” he said. “No matter what you may think, I’m still in your corner. I just want to make it clear that the longer you wait to get back, the more momentum you lose with your fans… and in the classical music world, you don’t have a legion of crazies like that Bieber kid does.”

Anna rolled her eyes. She knew that. She’d been in the business longer than Eddie had. He seemed to forget that. “I’m working on it, I promise.”

“It’s not the music, is it? You haven’t lost the drive?”

“No. Music has been my one solace through this whole mess,” she said. “It’s everything else. You say they’ll rally behind me… well, they may, but not before they stare at my face and ask me uncomfortable questions they don’t need to know the answer to.”

Eddie sighed into the phone again. “I know you’re scared, but I really think it’ll be completely different.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to keep doing this,” he said. “When you are ready, you let me know and I will be here. I do, however, have a favor to ask.”

“And that is…?”

“I’ll be in London in a few weeks to meet with a new client. She needs a piano accompaniment for a few demos I want her to record. Maybe some light direction on song choice, too. You know what records well.” 

Anna rolled her neck. “I’m better at violin.”

“I know, but you’re also ridiculously good at piano and you’re the only one I know that’s free right now. Everyone’s busy with the new season,” he said. “She’s one of your biggest fans. She doesn’t know I’m asking you, but I thought I might get this set up. It gets you to dip your toe back in the water in a private setting—not on stage—and it helps Cassie by teaching her a thing or two about being a recording artist. She’s really green.”

Anna sighed and looked at the sheet music she’d been scribbling on before going out for her run. Eddie was right. It would be a good exercise for her to go out and do some recording. Just sitting at home and conducting private lessons wasn’t cutting it any more. She was bored. She needed stimulation. It was just that the stimulation often triggered more anxiety than she could handle and it was all fruitless in the end. But she also knew Dr. Stuart would approve of Eddie’s plan. He’d been encouraging her to get out more… 

“Alright, I’ll do it,” she said.

“Awesome!” His smile was audible over the phone. “I’ll shoot off an email to you with her contact information so you can set up a few rehearsals. When I get the recording sessions booked, I’ll let you know that, too.”

“Okay.” There was a knock at her front door. “I’ve got to go, someone’s here.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Eddie said.

“I will.” Anna hung up the phone and hobbled back out of the office toward the front door. There was still a wet outline on the floor where the water had dripped from her clothing a few minutes ago. She pulled the door back to reveal the slight woman she had acknowledged only in passing in and out of the building. In a sling against her chest was her baby—one of the reasons why Anna had never stopped to talk. The woman had always seemed so concerned with fussing over the baby and Anna didn’t want to interrupt.

“Hi!” She was bright and bubbly, her Spanish accent heavy. “I’m Elsa… I just moved into the flat above you… oh, dear, you’re soaking. Were you outside?”

Anna nodded and diverted her attention. “I’m Anna. How can I help you?”

She grinned. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Anna. I just wanted to come down and introduce myself and excuse any stomping around you might hear above you… my husband walks so heavily. I hope he hasn’t disturbed your playing at all…”

“Uh, no, I don’t notice it,” Anna said.

“Oh, good,” she replied as though it were a huge load off her mind. She was dramatic. “I also wanted to let you know how much I appreciate your music,” she said. “Do you know how many times I’ve opened the veranda doors the past few months to let in the music from below just to quiet this little one?”

Anna looked at the drooling baby gumming a tiny fist in her mouth. She was adorable and very clearly her father’s daughter, at least from the few times she’d seen the man walking in and out without a second thought about her. This building wasn’t a large one; despite not having officially met them, she knew who had moved into the vastly oversized flat that took up the entire top level. Neighbors liked to gossip and celebrities in the building were always worthy of a great deal. 

Perhaps that was why it’d been so startling when she ran into their friend out jogging.

“I hope _I’m_ not being too loud,” Anna smiled. She really wanted to close the door, go draw herself a hot bath and change into dry clothes, but it seemed this woman was intent on being chipper and taking her time.

“You could never be loud with that music,” she said. “But anyway… we’re just off to visit India’s daddy at work and wanted to stop by to see if you’d join us for a cocktail party tomorrow night. It’s just a little get together to show off the new flat.”

Anna wanted to refuse, but knew better than that. She would just sit in her bedroom, listening to the merriment taking place above her and regret not going. Dr. Stuart had said she needed to go out more… and really, if she started to feel anxious, all she had to do was come back downstairs and shut it all away.

“I would love to,” Anna lied. “What time?”

“Eight-ish,” she said. “And it’s not fancy. So dress comfortably.”

“I hardly think pajamas would be appropriate, though,” Anna said.

Elsa laughed. “That would completely change the tone of the party, I think.”

“Depends on the pajamas.”

Her new building-mate laughed cheerfully, her light eyes twinkling. “Oh, I’m so happy you’ve agreed to come up. I’ll see you then. Say buh-bye to Miss Anna, India.”

Elsa lifted the baby’s hand and used it to wave as she turned them around to move onto the next door on the floor. Anna closed the door and rested back against it again, closing her eyes. She hadn’t been prepared for all of this to hit her at once. But she couldn’t dwell at the moment, as the wet clothes were now making her uncomfortable. The first order of business was to go get out of them.

And then once she was comfortable, she would rehash the last hour over and over until she had a headache.

\----

“What the hell happened to you?” Chris’ booming voice asked as he stepped into the makeup trailer later that evening, taking up the space with his sheer presence.

Tom saw his large friend in the mirror behind him but did not turn for fear of angering the makeup girl painstakingly applying foundation to the black-and-blue bruise that had risen on his cheek from the unfortunate encounter out jogging that afternoon.

“Did you get into a brawl at the pub again?”

“I’ve been trying to stay away from brawling,” Tom replied.

Chris sat into the makeup chair beside him, the crew quickly and almost mechanically getting to work on his makeup. “How are they going to cover up the split lip?”

“We have our ways,” said Poppy, the girl working on him. “Magical, secretive ways.”

Chris narrowed his eyes, surveying the damage a little longer. “Really, how’d you get it? Not saving a kid from a burning building or anything equally as altruistic?”

“I ran into someone,” he replied. “Her head connected with mine when we fell. It was painful.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah? I can’t always beat down criminals who steal old ladies’ purses,” Tom remarked with a smirk. “Sometimes I have no incredible tales to tell.”

Chris laughed and shook his head. “You know I look forward to your harrowing stories.”

Tom rolled his eyes and sighed, looking back at his reflection in the mirror. It really wasn’t that horrible. The purple tinge just highlighted the ridge of his cheekbone, and then there was the fat lip, but the makeup had already made it appear smaller. Despite the area being a little tender, it made him smile to remember the woman who had done it. Though she hadn’t stayed to chat with him, she’d been adorable. And skittish. But mostly adorable.

After he’d gotten back to his flat, soaked to the bone from the downpour he’d run through to get home, he’d replayed the whole scene in his head. There were a thousand things he would have done differently, namely keep her talking for as long as possible. He always believed everything happened for a reason, and a woman coming out of the bushes and literally body slamming him to the ground had to be a sign for something. Something intended to make him pay attention. The resulting pains in his body from the tackle wouldn’t disappear right away, and he would think of her every single time he moved too fast and felt a twinge of discomfort. The question was what exactly was he supposed to take from it?

Tom glanced again at his friend who scoffed at his phone as he looked through a text message. “What?”

“My _wife_ ,” Chris huffed. “She wants to know if you’re coming to the party tomorrow night, since you never said yes or no.”

Tom chuckled. “Of course I will… doesn’t she realize it’s pretty much a given I will just show up to your place even when you don’t want me there?”

Chris typed a message into his phone and jabbed at a button with a final grunt. “She’s driving me up a wall with everything now. As much as I appreciate her taking a long time to be with India, she’s at the point where she’s nagging and picking at every little thing. And this housewarming party has been the worst. She wants everything to be perfect at the flat, so the decorators have been running in circles changing things a million times. She complained yesterday when I saw the look of exhaustion in their faces and told them to go home and get some rest.”

“You know that’s just how Elsa is. She wants it her way, and she will micromanage until it’s done correctly,” Tom said.

“I know,” he sighed heavily. “I suppose I’m only extra touchy because of the long filming schedule… and then India’s teething and being a little demon resulting in no sleep.”

Tom listened to his friend’s litany of worries and troubles, and didn’t envy him at all. However, he also knew that Chris wasn’t truly upset. He was only venting as people often did. There were no two people who meant more to Chris Hemsworth than India and Elsa. Married life had definitely set in and the honeymoon was over. Back in the real world, there was a lot left to learn.

“What’s it like being whipped?” Tom asked.

Chris shot him a glare. “It’s just lovely. Let’s stop talking about it. Do you want to run through the lines while we’re sitting here?”

Tom nodded, glad for something to take his mind off of the woman and the lesson he was supposed to learn by bumping into her.


	2. Chapter 2

The following evening, Anna found herself sitting in her office again and checking her email. She was dressed and ready to put in the required allotment of neighborly face time required of her. However, she’d been unable to convince herself to leave the office. There had been a steady stream of people in and out of the building—she’d heard them getting out of cars and taxis below her office window—and no doubt were crowding the space upstairs. She could hear the laughter and happy talking. All of it made her rather anxious. She’d not had an attack, but it was definitely a possibility if there was a trigger tonight. It just wasn’t some place she was prepared to be. Not tonight. Not any night, if she were being honest.

But she knew she had to do this. It wasn’t a concert. People weren’t going to be focused on her. Quite the opposite, probably. No one but the others from the building who were in attendance would know who she was. And in the others’ fast-paced Hollywood lives, she was nothing to them.

She sighed and looked at the slim clear jewel case beside her. It was plain but for the single colorful bow the depths of her office closet had produced, which she stuck on top for decoration. It wasn’t a traditional gift for a housewarming, but she hoped that her neighbors would appreciate it. She’d even gone to the trouble of figuring out the new labeling program on the damn computer for the CD inside. Hopefully her newfound knowledge wouldn’t be wasted…

Still, she knew they’d never get it if she didn’t at least take it upstairs to them. And if she went, she’d have _two_ things to put down on her journal for Dr. Stuart later in the week. It was the direction she wanted to go, even if she didn’t feel ready for it.

Anna closed the lid of the computer resolutely and stood up, pulling at the soft sweater on her torso and arranging it over her jeans. With one last deep breath to center herself, she grabbed her keys and gift and left her flat. 

It felt good to be locking her door to go _out_ rather than locking her door in preparation to stay in. The last time she had been out this late—other than taking the trash out in her pajamas—had been back in Colorado before she’d moved out here as a means of escape. She just felt safer staying in the house after it got dark. Daylight was always preferable. No one would be lurking in dark corners with the intention of hurting her during the daylight hours.

The elevator took too long to arrive at her floor, and she felt the familiar wave of doubt and anxiety wash over her. The voice in her head told her to go right back to the safety of her home. She refused to listen, though, and instead went for the stairs and climbed them to the floor above her. As she came out onto the top floor, she found that people had spilled out onto the landing, but she quickly realized it was only because they wanted someplace quieter to talk. She stepped into the foyer and took a breath, looking around the brightly lit area. Everything was perfectly decorated in a light and airy French style. Sort of like a museum. People were littered about in their own conversation groups and didn’t seem to care about her, but the cacophony on the reflective marbled surfaces was deafening.

She liked that just fine. However, just as she turned right to move further back into the home, she heard Elsa’s distinctive Spanish accent call out to her. The woman left the two men she was laughing with and bounced over to her.

“I’m so glad you made it!” Elsa’s excitement at seeing her didn’t sound the least bit feigned, but it was still suspicious as she grabbed Anna’s arms and leaned over to kiss each cheek in greeting. She was either unaware of the way Anna had tensed, or she just didn’t care. Anna was fairly certain it was the latter. Elsa struck her as the extroverted type of person. “I was worried you were working late and wouldn’t make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Anna clenched her jaw. It was a lie. She hated lies. But it wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Elsa grinned and wrapped an arm in hers. “Come with me… I have to introduce you to my husband.”

She allowed the Spanish woman to pull her through the crowd. Anna saw their target before they came to a stop. It was difficult to miss such a large guy standing in a sea of people. Beside him was the man she had expected to see here despite not wanting to face him after yesterday. The shiner he was sporting on his cheek and the healing cut on his lip just made her feel worse, especially when they came into view of the men and the dark-haired one’s lips curled into a large smile.

“Chris,” Elsa said without wasting a moment, “this is our neighbor below us… Anna…”

“Anna Celeste,” she answered. 

“This is my husband, Chris,” Elsa said. “And that’s Tom Hiddleston.”

Anna shook Chris’ hand first, then Tom’s. The second one merely grinned wider. She had to look quickly away from him when she realized she was staring at the bruise. A warm blush flooded her cheeks. She was no better than him looking at her scar yesterday.

“So you’re the one that makes India sleep,” Chris said. 

Anna chuckled and nodded, belatedly remembering the gift she was carrying. “Oh! Right… I know the traditional gift is wine or something, but I thought you could use a mix of songs to play for your daughter. You know, when I can’t be around to do it.”

Elsa eagerly took the jewel case and surveyed it. “This is awesome. I might have to go give it to the nanny right now to see if it works! Chris, will you go check on the kitchen staff while I do this?”

Chris looked like it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, but he nodded nonetheless and excused himself. Elsa smiled. “I’ll be right back… Tom, make yourself useful and go get her a drink. Oh, and help yourself to some food. We’ve got a lot of it.”

Anna watched as the force of nature swirled off down a hall, presumably to take the CD to the nanny. She sighed and shook her head. The man who remained beside her cleared his throat to get her attention again. He chuckled when she turned back.

“So we meet again…” he said.

A long moment of silence stretched between them. It felt as though he didn’t know what to say, which puzzled him, judging from the look of consternation in his eyes. She just didn’t have anything to say but to apologize again. So she did, just to break up the awkwardness.

“I’m sorry for that,” she replied, brushing her own cheek.

He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t mind it… can I get you that drink?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she said.

“What will you have?”

“Ginger ale, please.”

“Nothing stronger?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Alright, one ginger ale coming right up,” he replied. 

“I’m just going to admire the spread.” Anna looked at the table arranged expertly with an array of different foods. A chef, presumably from the kitchen, was placing a new tray of food on the table. 

Tom bowed away to secure her drink and she moved closer to the food. It smelled amazing, but it made her stomach turn. It was bubbling and upset with this whole situation and eating something wasn’t going to help.

She sighed heavily and began to turn, but paused with the sudden appearance of young girl beside her. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen with slightly frizzy brown hair, braces and a big smile.

“Excuse me…” she said timidly. “Are you Anna Celeste? The violinist?”

Anna pursed her lips. Running into fans wasn’t a regular occurrence outside of industry events or concerts, so it startled her. But she supposed this classified as an industry event. As Anna glanced around the room, she realized there were a lot of famous faces here.

“I am,” Anna replied.

The girl’s eyes lit up. “I knew it was you! My music teacher showed us some of your concert videos on Youtube and I fell in love with your playing… it’s just so magical. I wish I could play half as well as you!”

Anna smiled softly, feeling her cheeks warm. “Thank you. How long have you been playing?”

“Oh, only for about five years,” she said. “Mum made me choose an instrument.”

“Do you like it?” Anna asked.

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose so, though it sounds like I’m killing cats half the time. And then I see the stuff you do, and how effortless it is, and I just don’t see the point in it.”

Anna reached out and placed her hand on the girl’s arm, squeezing slightly. “Just keep playing. The only reason I’m good is because I practice all the time. If I don’t practice, I sound terrible, too. Even after all these years.”

“When will you go back on tour?” she asked eagerly. “I would love to see a full show.”

“I… well…” Anna felt trapped. The eager girl obviously wanted an answer, but she had none to give and she did not know how to answer her. She didn’t want to dash the girl’s hope of seeing her live. 

Fortunately, the arrival of her drink-procurer interrupted the moment. And if the girl had been excited to see her, in the presence of Tom Hiddleston, she was absolutely gobsmacked. Anna glanced up at his playful eyes and realized he knew he had that affect on girls and women. He relished in it. And as ashamed as she was to admit it, Anna could barely contain her own womanly interest.

“Hi, Tom,” the girl said softly.

“What are you up to, Nola?” he asked.

He had the girl hook, line and sinker. “I-I was just talking to Anna. But I, uh, I’m going to go find my mum.”

She quickly turned to leave, but Anna reached and clamped a hand on her wrist to stop her. “Nola, hey, hold on. Do you know my website?”

Nola shook her head.

“It’s annaceleste.com. There’s a page about lessons… if you and your parents are interested, send me your information. I can give you a couple free of charge to see if you like it,” Anna said.

“Really?!” Nola asked.

“Of course. But only for you,” Anna replied.

Nola let out a squeal of excitement and disappeared into the crowd. Anna shook her head as she turned to look at the man beside her. He held out a small cup of bubbly ginger ale which she took and sipped.

“Do you do that on purpose?”

“Do what on purpose?” he asked curiously, one brow rising. He took a drink from his own glass of what she thought looked like whiskey.

“Frighten them away.”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I don’t make a conscious effort, but is seems to happen quite a lot. It happened to you just yesterday…”

“It was starting to rain,” she said. “I didn’t want to get drenched.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You think awfully high of yourself,” she replied. Frankly, it wasn’t a very good quality in her estimation. Even though he was trying to be playful, it wasn’t helping her at all. For the brief moment that she was talking to Nola about music, she’d forgotten about everyone else in the room. Nola hadn’t stared at the scar or brought up anything having to do with the very public reporting of what had happened to her. It had just been two musicians talking to each other. Tom had come in and upset the equilibrium that music always provided.

“So…” he said, changing the subject. “You teach music?”

“Something like that. How does Nola know you?”

“Her mother is wardrobe supervisor on Thor and Nola helps out around set when she’s not in school,” Tom answered. “What do you teach?”

“Music.”

“No, what instruments?”

“If it’s got a string, I can play it,” she said. "Violin and piano are my specialties."

“Nothing you have to blow?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. It was vulgar and unexpected, but she didn’t feel scandalized by his words. Uncomfortable though it felt to hear them come from his lips, they did something to her she had not expected. She felt warm and turned slightly to drink her ginger ale before glancing back at his piercing, constant gaze. “No, only things that require dexterous hands.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Indeed.”

Silence again, but she realized she didn’t mind his presence standing beside her. Though he was agitating and the awareness she had of him was unsettling, it was also comforting. Had he occasionally shifted his gaze elsewhere, it would have helped to ease her mind. But he didn’t. At least he wasn’t focused on the scar, as she had carefully turned her face away.

“So,” he said finally, “can I hear you play sometime?”

Anna felt her stomach clench unpleasantly. No, he couldn’t. 

“Or maybe just get a bite to eat?” he asked. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “No.”

To his credit, he didn’t press the subject, but she did see the dejection in his eyes. She had a feeling that he didn’t get turned down much. At least not recently. Despite having this hunch, she couldn’t help but feel pity and tried to formulate an excuse to soften the blow.

“I-I’m just not…” she paused and sighed. “I hope I’m not taking your invitation incorrectly… you mean… like a date?”

His lips quirked into a smile. “So I could get you to go out if it’s _not_ a date?”

She closed her eyes. Yes, she’d walked right into that one. “Maybe.”

“I get it,” he said. “Trust me, I get it. Bad relationship?”

Anna blew air from her lips. That was putting it extremely mildly. “Something like that.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t make new friends,” he added.

“Touché,” she said.

Before she knew it, he’d pulled his phone from his jeans pocket, his long fingers tapping through a few things. “Will you give me your number?”

What was the harm? He’d probably never call her. He very clearly wanted something she wasn’t prepared to give, and she was sure there were at least… a million other women who would give it to him without a second thought.

When she finished with her number, he saved it and slipped the device back in his pocket. They stared at each other, not quite knowing where to go from there. It was exceedingly awkward, but they were fortunate when Elsa reappeared.

“We put the music in, and she was out like a light,” Elsa confirmed.

“Good, I’m glad,” Anna replied.

Elsa grabbed her arm. “Let me show you around and introduce you… Tom has monopolized you enough.”

Anna was thankful for the reprieve from his unwavering gaze and the awkwardness of the situation, allowing Elsa to pull her into a completely different room to meet someone or another.

\----

Tom sipped his scotch, enjoying the smooth oaky taste as it slid down his throat. He watched as the two blondes disappeared into the crowd, engulfed as they were both short and slight of stature. When they were finally gone, he turned to look around the room.

Of all the people in all the world he had expected to show up to Chris and Elsa’s party, it had not been the woman he’d met out in the park yesterday. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t delighted from the first moment he realized who it was that Elsa was so excited to introduce to him, because he was exceedingly excited upon seeing her soft eyes glance his way. Her just happening to be his friends’ neighbor had to mean something more and definitely put more stock into the fact that they were destined to meet one way or another. He was meant to learn something from this experience.

However, he knew he wasn’t going to be overly happy if what he had to learn from the liaison was humility. He was aware that over the past few years, humility had somewhat given way to arrogance with his newfound fame. Try as he might to remain as down-to-earth and approachable as possible, Hollywood had crept into his life. It was difficult to ignore it when he lived it nearly every day. When he had legions of fans showing up to sets and waiting long hours just for a glimpse of him, anyone would develop a level of conceit. Luckily, he’d not let it show much to the public. It seemed his personal life had not had fared as well. He realized now that he had expected her to accept his invitation with no hesitation.

This dose of humility was like a bath of ice water. But it was needed.

“I thought you didn’t go for blondes,” said a rumbling voice behind him.

He turned to find Chris picking at the food on the table. Chris stuck a mini quiche in his mouth and chewed, smiling around his food as he waited for an answer.

“I could care less about hair color,” Tom replied.

“You seemed awfully friendly with her,” Chris said.

Tom chuckled and reached up for his cheek, brushing his fingers across the tender bruise. “She, uh, was the woman that tackled me yesterday.”

Chris frowned, barely comprehending. “What?”

“I was jogging in the park a few streets over and so was she,” Tom explained. “She was going the wrong direction on the path.”

“You didn’t say the girl that ran into you looked like that. That’s something you mention.”

Tom followed his friend’s gaze. Both Elsa and Anna had come back into his line of sight as they spoke with another group of women. 

“I didn’t think she would be your neighbor.” Tom drank the rest of his scotch and looked at the bottom of the glass. “Do you know anything about her?”

Chris shrugged. “Just what you know. But I guarantee you that Elsa is pumping her for information. She’s good at getting it out of people.”

Elsa laughed happily at something, placing a friendly hand on Anna’s upper arm. She acted as though they were already great girlfriends.

“If Elsa has anything to say about it, Anna will have no choice but to be friendly with her,” Tom said.

Chris chuckled. “Yes, I married a force of nature… she could be befriending worse people. At least this one isn’t a fame seeker… like some of the others.”

“How do you know that?”

“You mean besides the fact that she’s timid?” Chris asked.

Tom pursed his lips. He’d been trying to put his finger on exactly what it was about her that was strange, and he realized now that it was because she was timid. Not completely shy, but she was certainly soft spoken. Almost distant, in a way. Not entirely engaged. The only time he’d seen anything different was when she’d been talking to Nola about music.

“I supposed you’re right,” Tom said. “I don’t get a feeling like that from her.”

“No,” Chris laughed and wrapped an arm around Tom’s neck. “I get the very clear idea that you feel something entirely different.”

Tom shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not into me.”

“You _do_ work fast.” Chris shifted away, but kept a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Tom watched as Anna separated from the group of women, clearly preparing to leave for the night. He wanted to go and bid his farewell, but she was through the throng of people and out the door before he could even formulate what he planned to say to her. All he knew was that it was very quick and even stranger.

Elsa appeared before them, a look of accusation on her face. “Did you do something to Anna when I left you with her?”

“No,” Tom said.

“It was like she couldn’t wait to get out of here after I came back.” Elsa frowned and placed her hands on her hips.

Chris sighed and took his wife into his arms. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with any of us or the party. She’s shy… and you know you come on strong.”

Else merely huffed. “I’ll just have to invite her to lunch or tea or something. Get her alone.”

“I’m sure whatever you do will be great,” Chris said. “And you can put in a good word for Tom, too.”

“Huh?” Elsa looked at Tom. “Oh! Really?”

Great, this was just what he needed. Chris _and_ Elsa conspiring to bring them together. Frankly, he didn’t want their help. He preferred just to let things happen if they were meant to. He was the poster child for failing miserably after trying to make things work for selfish reasons.

Tom sighed. “Let’s just move on to another topic, please.”

And so Chris and Elsa did just that, though he knew the conversation was far from over. It was only a matter of time until they brought Anna up again. But until then, he would continue to replay the last half hour over in his head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to all the readers and for the kudos. I love hearing from you and hope that you enjoy this next installment!

A few afternoons later, Anna found herself sitting by the window of her favorite Starbucks in the middle of the West End, sipping the blessed nectar of the gods—a very strong and very large mocha with a double shot of espresso—and trying to get some work done. Accounting was not on her list of things she liked to do, but after cutting back on her business staff to reduce costs post-divorce, it was her unhappy task to complete. Sometimes, just for very fleeting moments, she thought about how nice it would be to get back out performing so she could hire people to do it for her. But then she woke up and realized she was just dreaming. 

For the time being, she could sit here at her table—the one back in the corner, but still by a window so she did not feel boxed in—and get her artistic fix. Watching people passing on the street, hearing talk between people coming in, audience members, actors, musicians… it was her little piece of nirvana without actually having to participate in it. It was how her daydreaming usually started, though it was always a happy diversion from the darkness and anxiety that usually overtook her mind. Being here, surrounded by the energy, was the only thing that kept her going. Well, that and being able to go home to play in her studio.

Eddie wanted her to get back into this life. This near-constant cycle of plane rides and rehearsals and parties. Sleeping in hotel beds for all but a month or two out of the year. It _had_ been her life for so long. She had adored it. A part of her still heard the siren’s call of the stage. Playing music was personally gratifying by oneself, but it was playing that music for people and seeing their reaction that was the true joy of performing. She could do without the politics and hobnobbing, but she just loved to share her gift with others. It was like a drug. She needed that "hit" again.

If only her heart could convince her brain of the need to go back. Unfortunately, even her heart was barely holding it together. 

Anna sighed and turned back to her work, glancing at the clock. It was nearing three-thirty, and her three o'clock appointment was late. She checked her phone for any messages, but there were none. However, as she scrolled through her texts just to be sure, the phone began to vibrate in her hands. It was from a number she did not recognize.

She pulled the headphones from her head and placed the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“What’re you thinking about?” said the smooth, masculine voice on the other end.

“Huh? Who is this?”

The voice laughed. “It’s Tom.”

“Oh… OH!” she pulled the phone from her ear and frowned at the screen. He’d actually called her? She put it against her ear again. “Hey… sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice.”

He chuckled again. “You never answered my question.”

“Why do you want to know?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve just watched you for the past five minutes stare off into space. I thought whatever was so engrossing had to be worth knowing.”

Anna sat up in her seat and looked around the shop, but did not see him. She glanced out the window to find him crossing the busy street in long strides to get to the other side without being hit. He looked good in low slung jeans, a grey shirt and black leather jacket.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said as he stepped up to the door and opened it. “What were you thinking about? Me, maybe?”

“Ha!” She couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her lips. “You do think awfully well of yourself.”

He chuckle was warm. “Then what was it that has you so enraptured?”

“I guarantee you it’s not as titillating as you think,” she replied.

“You know, I’m standing right here in front of you,” he said into his phone. “You should tell me.”

She ended the call and set her phone on the table, looking up at him. “Why should I tell you? You haven’t earned the right to peer into my mind yet.”

“Then tell me how I should earn it.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and deposited himself in the seat across from her.

“Did I ask you to sit down?” It didn’t offend her as much as it sounded, but his feathers weren’t ruffled. Instead, his lips merely curled into a smile. “Are you following me? How did you know I was here?”

“I met my sister for a late lunch down the street,” he said. “She has call in a few hours. I was walking down the street and thinking about tea, and then I saw you in the window.”

“Then you should get some tea,” she said.

He laughed. “Can I get you anything?”

“If I have any more caffeine I’m going to be doing cartwheels on the way home,” she said. Frankly, she’d probably be running home anyway if he didn’t cool his jets. She appreciated his enthusiasm, but it was too much for her to handle.

A few fans stopped him as he waited for his tea. He was obliging and gentlemanly, taking a photo each and signing a hot beverage cardboard sleeve. When he returned, he paused and looked at her. “May I sit down?”

“I guess. My appointment hasn’t arrived yet,” she replied.

“What type of appointment?”

“Consulting,” she answered. He didn’t need to know the whole story.

He sipped his tea and looked at her curiously. “Since I happened to run into you, we should decide what we’re going to do for the non-date friend-making experience.”

Anna sighed and reached over her computer for the stack of papers she’d placed there. She ordered them and reached for her computer bag, stuffing them into one of the compartments. The dominant thought on her mind was to get out of this in any way she could. She hadn’t thought he’d ever call her. Pure happenstance had created this meeting. She had no intention of going out with him—whether it was as friends or as something else. He was a nice enough guy and undeniably easy on the eyes, but she couldn’t seem to make him understand.

He must have sensed her getting ready to push him away because his posture became slightly more formal. Rigid. He straightened his jacket on his shoulders and looked at her seriously; the smirk gone. “You don’t want to.”

His words were simple. Matter-of-fact. Not angry, really. More unhappy. Downtrodden.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said. “I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a very long story that I don’t feel comfortable discussing.”

She sighed and pursed her lips, but a shadow fell over the table as she opened her mouth to speak again.

“Excuse me?” asked the girl’s voice.

Anna watched as Tom prepared to go into fan-mode, but she recognized the voice from the phone conversation they’d had the previous day.

“Cassandra?” Anna asked.

She bobbed her head enthusiastically. Anna wasn’t sure what she should expect, but she hadn’t expected this to be the girl Eddie wanted her to work with. She had expected some young country thing to show up. Someone who needed to develop her image. This girl clearly didn’t need an image. No more than twenty, she was the very definition of a commercial image from the large, bright blue eyes to the perfect Barbie-like shape of her body. What was worse was that the girl knew it, too. She had the air of superiority that came with wearing those large designer sunglasses that were now nestled on top of luxurious chocolate waves of hair. Even her makeup was perfect.

If this girl really had talent, then it boggled her mind why no one had snapped her up yet.

“I can’t believe I’m actually getting to meet you,” the girl said, extending her hand. “I was at your last concert in Germany before… well, before.”

Anna gave her a tight smile. “Thank you, Cassandra.”

“Oh, please, Cassie will do,” she said. For the first time since she had arrived she noticed the man sitting at the table with her. “Oh… hello!”

“Hello, darling,” Tom replied.

Anna frowned and looked at the man sitting beside her, his face agog in the new girl. How typical. One minute he was into her, and the next, a beautiful woman had appeared and she was nothing. Anna stopped herself with a mental slap. Wait. That was what she wanted. She didn’t want his attention, so maybe it was good that it had moved to Cassie.

Neither Cassie nor Tom said anything more to each other, but Tom sighed and made to stand up. “Have a lovely meeting, both of you. Anna, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. I will call you later.”

He disappeared quickly through the café and out into the street, leaving both of them in quiet. Cassie frowned and slipped into his vacated seat. “What was all that about?”

“Nothing,” Anna replied. “His friends are in the flat above me, so we’ve run into each other on occasion.”

Cassie wasn’t appeased with that answer, but she let the topic drop none the less. “So… is this the music you pulled for me?”

Anna looked at the second stack of papers she’d set out. “Yes, it is. I just need you to look through them so we can get an idea of songs to work on.”

“Well, my vocal coach and I made a list,” she said. She produced a piece of paper ripped from a spiral notebook and unfolded it. Anna wanted to tell her to stuff it, but she knew that wouldn't be polite. The vocal coach _would_ know her client's abilities and pick songs based on that, but Eddie had given her very clear requirements for song choices.

Anna reached for the paper and looked through the list anyway. “These are good if you can sing them… but some of them are too old for you. Eddie said he wanted young. You know, something more your age.”

“I don’t care as long as we can do ‘I Dreamed a Dream’,” she said.

“Well, that’s one that’s too old for you,” Anna said. “And it’s overdone, especially recently what with the movie coming out.”

“But everyone knows it,” she replied. “And I think I could do it really well.”

Anna pursed her lips. “Do you want something that’s spectacular or done ‘really well’?”

Her look of acceptance was enough, but she adopted a sour attitude. “Can I do _anything_ from Les Mis?”

“ ‘On My Own’ could work,” Anna said. “Eddie wants you to do three songs. One pop, one musical theater and one operatic. Did he tell you that?”

Cassie nodded.

Anna sighed. “Look through this stack and pull out the ones you’re interested in. Then we’ll look through your list and figure out what to do next.”

With that, the girl set to work and Anna glanced back outside. Tom was officially gone, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief and to concentrate on her work.

\---

Once back at his flat, Tom dropped into his favorite chair and let out a long, displeased sigh. That chance meeting with Anna had not gone nearly as well as he had hoped it would. Frankly, he was a little put off by her reaction to him showing up. Perhaps it was a sign he should back off and move on, but he couldn’t convince himself to do it. Not when there was a mystery left unsolved. He tried to tell himself it was just his ego getting in the way. Why wouldn’t someone like him? Even as just a friend? He considered himself a pretty likable guy. Was it because he was an actor? Was it for some other default?

He sighed again and reached for the laptop he’d left on the table. The girl who had shown up for the appointment with Anna had piqued his curiosity, and not only because she was beautiful. The way she spoke to Anna about her last concert in Germany made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and made him wonder what it was all about. He figured if she was a public figure there had to be something on the web about her. But even as the computer warmed up and the screen flickered on, he questioned his ethics in doing this. Was it fair to her to go snooping? That was half the fun of a relationship—any kind of relationship—whether it was platonic or romantic. Finding out about each other in a mutual way was important. He felt like he was invading her privacy doing this.

Before clicking on the icon to open the browser, he hovered for a minute and worried his lower lip. His teeth caught the small scab left there by the run in they’d had earlier in the week. It pulled and a slight sting made him stop. Yes, he had to figure out what was going on if he had any chance of breaking through the barrier she’d erected. Wouldn’t she forgive him in the end? He just had to know what he was dealing with.

The program opened and he typed her name and “violin” in the search, hitting enter and tapping his fingers on the silver computer. It seemed to take forever, but a page pulled up nonetheless. The first several entries were links directly back to her website, and then an entry in Wikipedia. He clicked on the Wikipedia link, her photo popping up in the right hand corner. It was a beautiful picture—she was dressed in a bright red gown, her hair blowing softly behind her and a violin perched on her shoulder. 

Born in California, she would be thirty-two on December 16th. Her parents were both in music, her mother a high school music teacher and her father a major record executive. She had two older brothers, neither of which were in the music world.

Below this was an extensive listing of her background as a violinist and pianist, followed by records and important concerts she had performed in. She’d won two Grammys and a handful of other awards. He scanned briefly and finally reached the last subheading that read “Personal Life”. 

_Ms. Celeste met George Devlin, an influential business man, in the fall of 2006 at a gala event for the Los Angeles Philharmonic. They married shortly after in a small ceremony in Napa Valley, CA in January 2007. Following reports of domestic abuse and infidelity, the couple separated January 2008. They reconciled for two months until June of that year when Los Angeles police were called to their Hollywood Hills home to break up an argument. Celeste was found unconscious and severely injured. Devlin was missing. Investigators say he left the country before authorities could apprehend him. The divorce went through uncontested and was finalized on April 4, 2010. She relocated and cancelled her remaining tour dates that year to recuperate. Devlin has not been seen or heard from since._

Tom finished reading the paragraph for a second time, just to make sure he was reading the right words. Of all the things he could have thought up to explain her behavior, this certainly hadn’t been near the realm of possibility.

Of course, there was a chance that Wikipedia could be wrong… after all, it _was_ Wikipedia. However, even as he wished this story wasn’t true, he knew, deep down, that it was. It would explain the scar on her face and the invisible one on her psyche that clearly made her resistant to everyone’s attempts to get to know her better.

He couldn’t even blame her for it, either. Now he knew the way he’d approached her was completely wrong. It honestly made him feel like an idiot for pushing so hard, when she had every right to push back at him. She said she _couldn’t_ go out with him, not that she _didn’t_ want to. There was some hope there, but he had to stop and question his motives. Did he really want to deal with this? His life, his career, wouldn’t allow for the amount of time and attention it would take to foster a relationship with a woman like her even if he could break through the wall she’d built.

“Tom! I’m home!” called the voice from the front hall. He snapped the lid of his computer shut and quickly placed it aside as his flat mate appeared in the room carrying bags from Tesco.

“Hey, Mandy,” he replied.

She smiled and set her purse down on the table and disappeared into the kitchen to put away the food. “I got you some more orange juice since I had the rest of yours this morning!”

“Thanks.” He stood from his seat and wandered back in that direction. 

She paused for a minute and glanced at him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” he replied.

“I can tell from your tone that something’s up,” she said. “You have the thoughtful tone. And you look perplexed.”

“I ran into that girl I met the other day,” he replied.

“Oh,” Mandy smiled. “The music chick?”

“Yeah.”

“And? How’d that go?”

“Not good.”

Mandy stood up from putting something in the refrigerator, looking at him with a confused expression. “Does she know what she’s missing?”

“See, it’s people like you that make me think everyone’s going to fall at my feet,” Tom chided.

Mandy rolled her eyes. “I just don’t see what the big deal is. You’re a good guy… like an honest to goodness good guy. You don’t do drugs. You’re gainfully employed. Reasonably intelligent and attractive. She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

He loved Mandy mainly because she was far enough removed from his acting life and performer-type friends that she saw things objectively, but not completely objectively. She was one of the few people who wouldn’t mince words around him, but was also someone who would be his fiercest protector when push came to shove.

“There’s a history… her history,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Mandy placed a package of biscuits in the cupboard and turned back to him. “So you talked long enough to learn a little bit about her?”

“No.”

Mandy frowned.

“Does it matter how I got the information?”

“Yes, it does,” she said. “Were you being a creepy stalker or did she tell you?”

“Stalker. It’s amazing what you can find on the internet,” he said.

Mandy shook a box of pasta at him accusatorily. “Need I go into a long diatribe about karma, and how you snooping for information on the internet is going to come back and bite you on the arse one way or another?”

Tom groaned. “No, you don’t need to remind me.”

"You, of all people, should know how sacred your privacy is." She finished her task and stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips. “Well, don’t leave me guessing. What did you find?”

“She’s divorced as of a few years ago. Her last relationship was abusive. I think that’s why she doesn’t want to give me the time of day,” he said.

“Maybe,” Mandy said. “Or she does want to give you the time of day, but you just aren’t going about it the right way? She doesn’t want to trust anyone but herself. I see it all the time at the clinic. She’s probably shy and edgy. Anxious all the time.”

Tom nodded. “It’s a fair estimation.”

“Then she’s like a deer… move too fast and you’ll startle her. You have to build up her tolerance. You can’t just come at her all ‘I’m Tom Hiddleston’ all the time,” she said. “You have to dial it back a bit.”

“But how do you do that?”

“Call her. Chat with her,” she said. “But you have to respect her boundaries. You know, there’s no tried and true method for this. Play it by ear, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“Play it by ear.” Tom snorted and rolled his eyes. “I see what you did there.”

Mandy smirked. “My pearls of wisdom are amazing, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He pushed away from the frame of the door in which he’d rested and turned around to go back into the other room. “I have work to do.”

“I’m going to start charging you for counseling,” she called after him.

“You haven’t even passed your exams yet,” he said. “You get your license, I promise I’ll start.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Tom laughed and grabbed his computer, heading to his bedroom to get some work done. He was sure his email was overflowing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everyone. Enjoy!

“So, what’d you think of Cassie?”

Anna laughed irritably into her cell phone as she pushed through the Underground exit and the massive crowd trying to get out onto the street. She was already late due to yet another meeting with Cassandra not starting on time and she didn’t appreciate these people now colluding to make her even later to her appointment with Dr. Stuart. The man kept a tight schedule and did not suffer tardiness. Her only saving grace was that her sessions were always scheduled as the last of his day—Anna was convinced the good doctor did this only because she was so fucked up that she required more time than all the others.

“Anna?” said the voice, reminding her that someone was on the phone.

“Oh, sorry.” She finally broke free of the mass of people and onto the street level. “She’s okay, I guess. Opinionated.”

“It’s good for her to know what she wants,” he said.

“Not when she’s a snotty twit about it,” Anna replied exasperatedly. “She exudes the fact she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” His response was deserved.

“I never once acted like her. Mom always kept us grounded,” she said.

Eddie sighed. “Well, Cassandra will be going through some changes in regards to her presentation. She hasn’t been through any PR training yet. Did you get anything done?”

“I think we picked some good songs, but it was a struggle. She kept fighting me like she knows more than I do about it.” Anna reached her destination and opened the door to the high rise medical building. “She may know me and like my music, but she forgets I have been in this business my entire life.”

“She’ll get better. I promise,” Eddie said.

“One can hope,” Anna replied tersely. “Look, I’ve gotta go. I’m at Dr. Stuart’s.”

“Alright, later.”

She hung up the phone and stepped into the sedate earth-toned lobby. It was empty, underlining the fact that she was late. All the other appointments that started on the hour had already gone in with their respective clinicians. The receptionist at the front desk wasn’t the normal girl, but Anna had seen her around the office recently. She smiled warmly as Anna reached her window. “Hi… I’m late… here for Dr. Stuart.”

“Ah! There you, Anna, my dear!” said the jovial white-haired man as he stepped into view of the window, carrying a stack of files which he set on the receptionist’s desk. “Have you met Mandy yet?”

“Uh, no,” she said.

“Mandy is our new student. She’s studying to finish her post-graduate in psychotherapy,” he explained. “Mandy, this is Anna.”

Mandy smiled politely and offered her hand. After a brief shake, Dr. Stuart ordered her to come in the office. He quickly gave Mandy directions regarding entering prescription orders for the client files he’d brought to her. When he was done, he caught up as she walked down the corridor to his comfortable, lived-in office. As always, it was in organized chaos. She pulled off her coat and scarf, placing the articles of clothing with her bags on the overstuffed leather couch beside her. He took a seat in his office chair and spun around with her file in his hand.

“I was worried about you! Everything getting on well?” He clicked the end of his ballpoint pen and consulted the time on his watch as he began writing in the extensive file.

“Yes, I’ve actually been doing well since we upped the meds last month,” she replied.

“Any attacks this last week?”

She began to shake her head but stopped. “Well, a half of one. I’d gone out jogging—.”

“You went out jogging? Good for you!” he said with a smile.

Anna nodded. “I ran into someone. I mean _literally_ ran into someone, and it went downhill from there. I hurt him enough to draw blood. I was okay at first, but then the storm started and the anxiety just overtook me.”

“And how did you deal with it?” he asked. “How did you stop it from becoming debilitating?”

“I ran home and started to let it take over, but I remembered the breathing exercises and affirmation exercise we’ve been working on,” she said. “I told myself that there was no reason to be scared and it worked for once.”

Dr. Stuart smiled and scribbled in the file. “I’m very pleased to hear about this progress.”

“You mean that after a year it’s about time.” Her reply was sarcastic, and it received an equally censuring look from the doctor.

“I’ve told you repeatedly that everyone improves at their own speed. You must look at the positives to come out of this experience. You did not run home to the crutch of Xanax to stop the panic attack and you were able to breathe and talk yourself down from the hysteria. It is a _huge_ accomplishment. Not only that, the increased SSRIs are helping you get out and do more. You went jogging , after all. That’s even better. Whether you will admit it to yourself or not, you are succeeding. You are nearly back on your feet. And I, for one, am proud of you.”

Anna felt her face warm and she glanced out the window.

“What I’d like to focus on for this session, though, is the trigger for the attack,” he said. “Can you tell me what it was that unsettled you the most about the run in? Was it seeing the blood? Was it the pain associated with it? Was it only because it was a man? Tell me what you think it is.”

Anna sighed and lifted her hands, rubbing her temples. A headache was beginning to form there, not from Dr. Stuart, but from the annoyances that had built up over the last two days. One annoyance in question popped into her head, his blue eyes smiling at her just as they had the day out in the park. She’d last seen him yesterday and he still tormented her.

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s recount the whole situation,” he said. “Every detail, beginning to end.”

“Do we have to?”

“It will help me understand the situation to narrow it down for you,” he said.

She sighed heavily and glanced back at the man. He was older and just a little off his rocker, but he still held that magnificent intellectual quality of the most learned British academic. It was like he was a cuddly grandfather—completely nonthreatening. Just the reason she had chosen him as her doctor when she’d moved to London. Still, she was uncomfortable talking about this with him.

“I was running along the path, thinking about the fact that I was completely out of shape, and then thinking about my schedule for the next day. I ran full throttle into the guy… tackled him to the ground and landed on him,” she said. “I struggled to get up and he grabbed my arms so I didn’t hurt him.”

“Did he do it forcefully?” he asked. “Did he show a bad temper? Was he rude?”

“Oh, no.” Anna shook her head. “He spoke gently and only grabbed me to help me steady myself. I knelt by him and saw the blood and reached out to clean it, but realized what I was doing and pulled back. He looked at me… like really looked at me. He saw, um, he saw my scar.”

Dr. Stuart nodded. “Did that bother you?”

“When does it not?”

Dr. Stuart sighed.

“Then I helped him up and we tried to blame the incident on ourselves, before settling the blame on me at my insistence,” she said. “There was a rumble of thunder and I made to excuse myself, but he stopped me by asking if I jogged at that park often. I said it was something new… we got names, shook hands and left.”

The man across from her was silent for a very long time, a finger thoughtfully tapping his lips. She wondered what was going through his head and what he would say next. What homework would he give her now that he had heard the story?

“You’re not telling me everything,” he responded.

“What do you mean? Of course I am. You asked what happened, and I told you what happened,” she said.

He held up a hand. “You’ve told me what happened. You have not told me how it made you feel.”

“I told you, him looking at the scar upset me,” she said. “My running into him upset me.”

 _On a fundamental level, Tom upset every part of me_ , she finished in her head.

Dr. Stuart’s eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled softly. “And were you attracted to this man?”

“Y—what? How could you even ask that?”

“You were,” he said matter-of-factly.

Anna shook her head. She refused to answer him.

“Would it be out of the realm of possibility to suggest that your interest in him was really what scared you?”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Uh-hum,” he said, scribbling in the file.

“Do you really have to write that?”

He chuckled. “This is a part of your recovery. It is yet another sign to me that what we’re doing has been working, and I have to keep a record of it.”

Anna looked at him square in the eyes. “Yes, I was attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? He’s handsome and a big time actor.”

“You didn’t tell me that, either,” Dr. Stuart said. “What actor?”

“Does it matter?”

He nodded his head.

“Tom Hiddleston.”

He didn’t show any outward sign that he recognized the name, but he made a sound in his throat and jotted the note down. “I’m going to throw this out there for you to consider. I don’t want you to automatically reject it. Just… consider it.”

“What is it?” Anna felt her stomach dropping as he spoke the words.

“Perhaps you are ready to move on,” he said. “Nothing says you cannot be attracted to someone or fall in love with someone.”

She sighed and felt tears well in her eyes.

“You have every right to be scared, but you never know unless you try.”

“How could I ever have a meaningful relationship with anyone if I am always scared they will hurt me?”

Dr. Stuart shrugged his shoulders and changed positions, crossing his other leg. “Your trust has been shattered and you will have to rebuild it. I certainly do not want you to go rushing into anything as that would be unhealthy and complicate matters later on. What we need to get you to do is to open yourself up to the possibility that there are some decent men out there. I know nothing about this bloke, but he could be a good place to start.”

“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” she said.

“Did he give you any way to contact him?”

She pursed her lips. It was on her recent call list.

“Good. I want you to give him a ring and talk to him. Pick something innocuous. Maybe the weather. Or maybe jogging.”

“But what if the conversation moves on from that? Am I supposed to hang up on him?”

“No,” Dr. Stuart said. “Go with your gut. If you feel comfortable going on, then continue. You have the barrier of talking to him via the telephone. If you feel uncomfortable, give him an excuse and hang up. Simple as that.”

“And how do I stop him from showing up at my doorstep?” She nodded her head. “His friend lives in the flat above me.”

“If he shows up unannounced, then tell him to leave. It is your right to do it, and you will know if he leaves that he probably isn’t like your ex-husband.”

Anna listened to him and nodded her head, staring back out the window as his words muddled together. _Probably isn’t like your ex-husband._ She huffed at the ludicrousness of it. Of course he wasn’t like her ex. Her ex would insist on staying and smothering her. Tom, despite his sudden appearance today, had left when she had asked him to. He’d been unhappy with it, but he had respected her decision. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

“Bottom line is that you could make a new friend out of this,” Dr. Stuart concluded, unknowingly using Tom’s argument.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” she said.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He nodded his head and closed his folder. “Good. We are out of time today, but I’ll see you next week. I want to hear all about your conversation.”

She did not like this one bit, but the advice Dr. Stuart had given her over the past year had never led her astray. She’d had fewer backslides with less footing loss than she’d had with the psychologist she’d seen in America. That one had merely sent her to a psychiatrist who doped her up and sent her on her way.

Anna stood from her seat and collected her things. Dr. Stuart walked her out to the front, asking her conversationally how the music business was going, though she knew it was just another facet of this experience. The reason she was doing all of this—putting herself through this work—was to get back out on stage. That was the ultimate goal.

“Same,” she said. “I’m playing accompaniment on a demo for some new client of my manager’s. It looks to be a chore. I’ll let you know more next week.”

“Here we are, Mandy,” Dr. Stuart said, handing the student the file. “Please schedule Anna for the same time next week.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Have a wonderful week, Anna.”

“You, too, Dr. Stuart,” she said.

He disappeared down the hall and shut the door to his office. Anna turned back to Mandy who smiled sweetly. “It will be one hundred thirty today.”

Anna pulled out her checkbook and began writing it out while Mandy clicked away at her computer. 

The girl glanced up at her. “Are you in music?”

“I am. I play violin and piano professionally.”

“Oh,” said Mandy simply. It seemed like there was something more behind the comment, but she did not elaborate and Anna didn’t prod. She didn’t like to prod. Anna handed the check over and collected her receipt, bidding farewell to her. Now all she had to do was go home and stew about her homework assignment. Hopefully a hot bubble bath would wash away the day’s troubles and relax her enough to give Tom a call.

\----

Tom collapsed in his bed that night, exhausted after a very long day of filming. He loved his job more than anything else in the world, but it was physically and mentally exhausting days like today that really made him question his choice to be a professional actor. At least he had the warm comfort of his bed to crawl into and pass out for the foreseeable future. His next shooting day wasn’t for another week. He was also thankful that tonight was Mandy’s late night at her internship, so it meant he could have some quiet time before she came in and started making noise. With any luck, he’d be so far into dreamland her ambient noise wouldn’t bother him.

He yawned into his hand before quickly throwing off his clothes and crawling beneath the warmed blankets. Yes, this was exactly where he wanted to be. His body was instantly responsive to the soft comfort of the mattress, his eyelids like lead weights. Just as he was on the cusp of slumber, a piercing digital ring filled his room and jolted him awake. He lay still, wishing it would cease its torment quickly, but as each ring passed, he knew he should at least get up to answer it.

Getting out from under his cocoon of warmth, he grabbed the phone where he’d left it on the dresser and carried it back to the bed. That was when he looked at the identification screen and nearly dropped the device. He hadn’t expected a call from her. Not now, not ever, really. He’d pretty much convinced himself that he should just let the issue drop and not pursue her. Like a coward, he had ignored his own attraction to her because he did not think he could put in the effort to win someone like that over. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he could deal with that level of misery in their lives.

Still, he answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hi, Tom?” asked the soft, timid voice on the other end. He could feel the unease.

“That’s me,” he replied.

“Oh, good. It’s Anna.”

“I know.”

There was a moment of silence on the other line and he thought he would have to say something, but she chimed in.

“I, um, just wanted to call and apologize for the way I acted yesterday at the coffee shop,” she said. “It was rude of me.”

He sighed. “No harm done.”

She cleared her throat and coughed. “So, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to meet up for a jog soon.”

Tom couldn’t keep his lips from curving into a smile. “Only if you would like to. Don’t do it for my benefit.”

“No, I’d love to do you,” she said in a rush, but the pause on the other end was definitely pained. His smile stretched further as he struggled to contain his laughter. He didn’t want to scare her away by saying something in response to that obvious slip. “Wait. That didn’t come out right. What I meant was I’d love to do _it_ … go jogging... _with you_. Not _do_ you. And I’m just going to stop talking.”

He chuckled. “How about nine tomorrow?”

“Can we plan for eight?” she asked. “I know it’s early, but I have a lesson at ten and I have to be back and cleaned up.”

“That works,” he said.

“Good,” she replied. “I, uh… what I mean to say is that you’re going to have to jog slowly. I’m really out of shape.”

Tom grinned. “I promise to go slow.”

He hoped she understood that was meant in more ways than the literal.

Anna made a sound that might have been a laugh, but it was difficult to tell. “Alright, I better go. I still have work to do.”

“Have a wonderful night,” he said.

“You, too,” she replied. 

He waited until she ended the call to take a breath. That had all gone much better than he ever thought it would go. Still, though, he was worried. He was more than a little physically attracted to her, and what little he had learned during their brief interactions together made him want to get to know her on a deeper level, but he just didn’t know. Why set himself up for failure when there was an overwhelming likelihood this would never work?

He couldn’t just ignore it, though. Not when she had taken the effort to reach out to him. That had to mean something good.

After setting the alarm on his phone, he sunk back beneath the covers on his bed and let out a long sigh. Now he had to get some sleep. Tomorrow would require a lot of energy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the wait! I finally finished my cross country move, so I can get back to writing! Please enjoy this chapter. If you have a moment, feel free to drop me a comment. :D

Tom arrived at the park the following morning at precisely fifteen minutes prior to the appointed time in preparation for his jog with Anna. He had absolutely no idea how the next few hours were going to go, but he felt incredibly optimistic. She’d been the one, after all, to call him about this. Clearly she was warming up to him, so it had to be a good sign.

At exactly eight, she came walking up the path from the north where her building was located. She was bundled up—more so than she’d been earlier in the week. It was as though it was rather soft, fleecy armor meant to protect her from any damage he might inflict upon her. However, he noticed belatedly, that she had pulled her long hair away from her face into a high ponytail sitting on the back of her head. The scar highlighting her cheek was a sharp and somewhat shocking contrast to the smooth lines and perfection of the rest of her face and body, but it added to her mysteriousness. She was perfectly imperfect. Interesting. Beautiful. But she clearly didn't feel that way about herself.

She stopped in front of him and gave him a tentative smile. The tip of her nose and cheeks were red from the cold, but it didn’t hide the blush that deepened the color. “Morning.”

“Good morning, darling,” he said. “You ready?”

Anna looked around and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose. Slow, remember?”

“Sure,” he said.

And that was how their jog started. It was slow—by his standards at least—but he had to remind himself that he had much longer legs and clearly more training. She was winded, but not so much that she had to stop for a breather, and kept up with the pace he set. It did, however, make talking somewhat impossible. He was happy just to have companionship despite the awkwardness of the situation, but it would have been nice to speak to her and attempt to pull her further out of her shell.

They’d gone for a solid twenty minutes when she finally slowed to a stop and made a face of discomfort, grabbing her right side, just under her breast.

“Sorry, got a stitch in my side,” she huffed, walking around in small circles as she grimaced with each breath. “I’ve gotta call it for today.”

Tom chuckled as she doubled over and placed her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “You want to walk around a bit to cool down?”

She jerked her head up quickly, sending the long pony tail back over her shoulder. “I can do that.”

“Good,” he said. 

They were only a few steps into their walk when she paused and looked up at him. “Thank you for agreeing to come after the way I treated you.”

“I figure I deserved it,” he said. “I come on a little strong when I really like someone.”

Her laugh in response was derisive and highly discomforting. “How can you like me? We just met. We barely know anything about each other.”

“I know enough to know I would like to learn more,” he said.

“And what happens when you’re disappointed by what you find?” she asked.

He reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her, but he realized too late he hadn’t been thinking. She flinched and pulled back from him. “I won’t be disappointed.”

Her lips pressed into a hard line. “Hasn’t curiosity ever killed you?”

“Many times,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “It’s one of my vices. I always go fast and hard and have ended up hurt many times in the past.”

“And yet you keep doing it,” she said.

“I didn’t say it had anything to do with relationships,” he replied. “I’m usually a pretty good judge of character.”

Except, he realized, it did have everything to do with past relationships. He’d ended up hurt more times than he could count because he was stupid when he was attracted to someone… and even more so when he fancied himself in love.

“Of course you are.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and started walking again, this time at a brisk pace. 

He watched her go for a bit before jogging to meet up with her. “Why can’t you just accept that someone is interested in getting to know you?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, pausing again to look at him. He came up short and nearly ran into her, but he didn’t step back as she craned her neck to look up. “I’m sorry, Tom… I just… I…”

Tom watched as she struggled for the words, but he knew she wouldn’t come up with them. She didn’t have to tell him that she carried with her quite a lot of baggage. Everyone did, even if she had more than her fair share. But he dared not tell her he had read Wikipedia—of all places!—to find out why she was so standoffish.

He sighed and reached out for her again. She was prepared for him this time as he rested his right hand on her arm to stop her chattering. Anna tensed but gradually relaxed. It was only then that he truly wandered why he wanted to get to know her. Was it just because she was a challenge? Was it a waste of time? Judging from this very visceral reaction every time he reached out for her, he wondered if she would ever accept _any_ man, much less him, touching her, caressing her… loving her. Would she ever reach a place where she could accept physical comfort from another man? That was an integral part of a relationship, at least it was to him.

She grew breathless and he pulled back when he realized she had become flustered. “I, uh, I should probably go back. I have a… a… lesson soon.”

He nodded. “May I call you? Would you like to go jogging again?”

The uncertainty in her eyes killed him. “I don’t know.”

“What if I ask you for music lessons?” he asked. “I’m pretty good at a few things… but violin…”

Anna closed her eyes and sighed defeatedly. “We don’t have to disguise it as a lesson.”

“But if it makes you feel better…” he said. “And I think I really would like to have a lesson or two taught by a master. It’s something to beef up my CV.”

“If you’re serious about learning, then I suppose I could help,” she replied. “But it would feel wrong if you paid me.”

“How about a barter plan? You teach me and I will take you out to do everything fun and interesting there is to do in London,” he said. “Or I can give you running lessons. Or teach you how to drive.”

At that she laughed lightly. “Tom, I think it was a mistake that I asked you to go running in the first place. I’m exhausted. When I told you this was something new I was trying out, I wasn’t kidding.”

He smiled. “We’ll play it by ear.”

Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously, but her lips again split with laughter at his terrible pun, courtesy of his roommate earlier in the week. The smile lit up her face, her rich brown eyes twinkling with mirth. “Alright,” she said, patting him on the chest in an uncomfortable but clearly exploratory way. “I do have to go. Call me and let me know when you’re available for a lesson. Do you even have a violin to play?”

“No,” he said. “I’m sure I could locate one.”

Anna shook her head and took a half step back, pivoting on her heel. She paused, though, and met his eyes. “When do you go back to filming?”

“A few days,” he said. “I’m free during that time.”

“Tomorrow? Say 3ish?” she asked, her nose scrunching up adorably.

“I can do that.”

“I’ll see you at my apartment,” she replied.

He nodded and before he could say anything else, she had walked briskly away from him as though she couldn’t get away fast enough. Tom stood still for some time, transfixed with the swing of her hips, wondering how this morning had ended up with him taking violin lessons as a pretense just to spend time with her. Maybe it wasn’t the best plan in the world, but it was obvious to him that so long as she had music as a buffer, it made facing her demons easier. If that’s what it took to break down her barriers, then he would work with it. Because he found, quite suddenly, that despite his physical attraction to her, he quite liked her for other reasons and in the oddest ways, from her shy smile to the way she flicked her long blonde hair over a shoulder. It was as though he knew those mannerisms better than his own. Like he’d known her for much longer than five days.

When she was gone from his sight, he sighed heavily and gave himself a good laugh. Now he had a mission to find a violin to use for lessons. As he started in the direction of his own flat, he wondered if his baby sister still had the one she’d played for six months when she was five years old before finding her singing voice.

\----

“And why do you need the violin again?”

Tom met his mother’s astute blue eyes as they walked down the hall toward the door to the attic. He gave her a half shrug and turned the handle on the door. “I was just thinking I might need it for something.”

“I’m sure it’ll need quite a bit of work. You know, we’ve not done anything with it since we put it away,” she said. “And thank the lord for that. If I had to listen to that scratching for much longer, I don’t know what I would do.”

He laughed at his mother, vaguely recalling Emma trying to practice the instrument but quickly growing bored. Their mother had just as quickly abandoned all hope of having a mini orchestra when it turned out Emma hated the violin. Moreover, his mum’s nerves just couldn’t take the scritch-scratch of a child who realized very early on that it irritated people to play it in such a way.

His mother, however, knew exactly where the case was without even having to think about it. It was in the furthest corner of the attic behind Emma’s dollhouse and a bicycle, covered in twenty years of dust.

“Ah, here it is.” She reached for the case and drew it out of its spot, offering to him. He took the generic hard shell black case.

“Why didn’t you ever sell it?”

She shrugged and turned to head back toward the stairs. “It was not an inexpensive instrument. Maybe I hoped that I could gift it to a grandchild one of these days.”

Tom rolled his eyes. Despite his eldest sister having two children, his mother acted like she had no grandchildren to speak of. Of course both of them were in India with their mother and father, but sometimes his mother laid on the guilt a little too thick. Which was odd because she had never seemed overly concerned about his romantic life and any possible children resulting from it. Since his thirtieth birthday, however, she’d made it her mission to bring it up any chance she could. Perhaps it was because his career was taking him further and further away from the ability to settle down that she grew anxious.

He was of the belief that if he found the right woman, settling down wouldn’t be an issue even as a movie star. He’d make it work any way he knew how just to be with that person. If it meant being more selective about his roles, he could do that. Throwing some theatre in to be in one place for a good amount of time was also feasible. He just hadn’t met the person that made him want to do that. Was his current interest that woman? Probably not. But he also wasn’t above trying it on for size and seeing how it went.

That was if she would have him.

When they made it back out to the front room, he set the violin on the table and blew off the dust before flipping open the rusted metal latches. The hinges creaked as he carefully pulled the lid open, revealing a moth-eaten green velvet lining and a sad looking violin. Though the strings were all still attached, it didn’t take a genius to see they needed to be preplaced. The bow hair was no longer connected to the bow. The wooden finish that Tom once remembered to gleam was now dull and in need of refinishing. 

“Hrm.” He bit his lip and gingerly picked up the instrument

“I told you it wouldn’t be in good shape,” his mother said as she sat in her seat. “You probably could still play it. The teacher you’re going to might be able to direct you to the right person to get it fixed up.”

Tom glanced at his mother. “I had hoped to have a completely playable one. My lesson is tomorrow.”

She shrugged. “I doubt you’ll be playing on the first lesson.”

“True.” He closed the lid and secured the latches before sitting back and looking at his mum. “I’ll just have my teacher take a look over it.”

“How’d you find this instructor?” 

Tom smiled, knowing his mother was concentrated on his sudden interest in the violin, having shown no want to learn it in the past. But she was being the same mother he’d always known—the one who danced around the topic and waited for him to bring it up. He wasn’t ready to discuss it with her yet. 

As far as he was concerned, his roommate and Chris were really the only ones who needed to know the reason behind this. He wanted this—whatever it was—to be his for awhile, free of the distraction that would unfortunately come from being in the public eye. It was one the few things in his life that hadn’t completely changed since his career started taking off. Even if Anna never became more than a friend, he knew Anna couldn’t handle the attention just yet. Especially any attention from a mum who was hell bent on getting him married and having grandbabies.

“It’s a long story,” he replied.

“I have some time,” she said. 

He shook his head. “I just want to learn the violin for a bit… try something different.”

“I will get it out of you eventually.” Her finger waving only made him laugh. 

“I fully expect it,” he replied. “But not tonight. I need to head home and do some work.”

She sighed. “If you plan to be like that, it’s for the best. You know how I hate secrets.”

He stood from his seat and leaned over his mum, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “You’ll forgive me when you find out all the details, which won’t be for some time.”

“Will you be coming to Emma’s premiere for the new show?” she asked. “You never said one way or another.”

“The plan is to be there,” he said. “It depends on the filming schedule that week.”

“Do you have a second for your other ticket?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Do you have someone?”

“Let me know. Millie was poking about the post on my table the other day and the envelope was in the pile,” she said. “Quite miffed she didn’t receive one for opening night.”

Tom rolled his eyes as he gathered his things. He stopped at the front door to wind his scarf around his neck and pull on his coat. “You told Aunt Millie she only has four tickets to give for the night, right?”

“Has that ever stopped your aunt?”

“I can’t do anything about it,” Tom said. “This is Emma’s show.”

His mother chuckled and shook her head. “I just thought you might be able to make some calls.”

“You know I hate doing that,” he said.

“I know,” she replied. “It was worth a try, though, and I can honestly tell your aunt there’s nothing to be done.”

“Mum, you could have just told her that to begin with.”

His mother shrugged apologetically.

He chuckled. “I’ll ring you later and we can decide what to do about food before or after the premiere.”

“Sounds splendid. Let me know how your violin lesson goes,” she said.

Tom agreed with a nod of his head. “I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Her words faded as he stepped out the door into the crisp afternoon air and shut the door behind him. He breathed in a deep breath, and with violin in hand, he started down the street. Mum’s boy or not, he was glad to have so easily escaped her clutches. It seemed that since her semi-retirement she’d been at him more and more about everything.

Before he knew it, he was walking up the stairs to his flat and let himself inside the front door. Mandy, apparently just back from her midday class, sat in the living room surrounded by thick text books, sheaves of notes and her laptop.

“Hello,” she said, not bothering to look up from her work. However, as he stepped into view, her eyes caught sight of the violin case in his hand. “I hope there isn’t a gun in there.”

He laughed. “No.”

She squinted. “Music chick?”

“Yeah.”

“What was her name, by the way?” she asked, finally looking up and meeting his eyes.

“Anna,” he said.

The look on Mandy’s face was thoughtful, but she didn’t say anything else. “You’re doing an awful lot to impress a girl.”

“I’ve done worse to get someone’s attention,” he said. “It wasn’t always easy being Tom Hiddleston.”

Mandy scrunched her face in distaste and waved him away. “Go away. You interrupted my train of thought. I’ve got to get ten pages of this thesis done by the end of the week.”

“You’re the one who asked,” he pointed out.

She afforded him a silent, obscene gesture as he turned to go back to his room and lament over his newly acquired violin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to everyone reading.
> 
> Secondly, SO sorry about the wait. Over the last month I've started a new job and had a huge paper to finish for one of my classes. Thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> Enjoy this slightly longer chapter.

“Can I go, Miss Celeste?”

Anna sighed heavily and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer that she didn’t kill the child sitting in the seat beside her. The girl had not settled down once and clearly wasn’t going to be engaged in the lesson. 

At this point, it wasn’t worth it. 

She had never come to a lesson focused, either shooting off the walls from a sugar high or retaliating because of some ludicrous rule her mother had initiated and expected the nanny to follow. Though the nanny often brought the girl and had better control, it was the high strung, superficial woman who was the mother who should be blamed for the behavioral issues. Whatever steps the nanny made, the mother almost always came in and shook up only to leave the child again with a nanny and a music teacher who were at wits end. 

And the kid had absolutely no musical ability or artistic inclination whatsoever and trying to force it was useless. Still, it had become a status thing for the mother. In her mother’s eyes, little Kathy had to be involved in every extracurricular activity possible, but only the ones her mother deemed proper for a daughter of a wealthy peer or ones that would give her a leg up in school admissions. She never once took the opportunity to ask her daughter what she’d actually like to be doing instead of scratching at violin strings.

Anna knew she shouldn’t complain. She provided a service, and despite not making much headway, she continued coming back. The woman’s money was just as good as all the rest—at this point, Anna needed all of the lessons and additional income she could get—but Anna’s patience was wearing incredibly thin. The girl came unprepared and unpracticed to her lesson and did not sit still for the entire hour. All attempts at redirection back to the lesson failed. She could only imagine what the child’s school teachers must have to put up with on a daily basis. 

Most of the time Anna didn’t mind working with students, even young ones, but it was hard not to sit here on Thursday afternoons and think about all the ways she could end this nightmare. This was a far cry from the life of international concert virtuoso. How had she gotten to this point, anyway? It was moments like this that made her consider, just for the briefest of moments, going back on the road and performing.

But then she remembered everything else and the crushing weight of panic settled on her chest.

“Yes, you can go,” Anna finally replied in answer to Kathy’s inquisitive gaze. She gathered the girl’s music books and folder on the stand and ordered them as the girl threw her instrument into its case and closed it up. “Kathy, what have I told you about caring for our instrument?”

Kathy was already out of the room and hollering for her mother. She didn’t care one lick about the instrument. Anna sighed and stood up, her body groaning from sitting in the wooden chair all day. Her rear ached and every muscle, ligament and tendon in her arms felt the fatigue of having been used extensively all day.

She stepped out of the tiny soundproof room she used for lessons. Kathy’s mother had come in from the waiting area, but had not stopped talking on her cell phone. She patted the girl on the head and instructed her to see her nanny who was waiting in the hall.

“May I have a word?” the woman asked.

Anna knew without doubt that this was not going to be a happy word.

“Yes, I’ll ring you soon, love. I must have a word with that violin teacher,” she said. “Yes, the American. Oh, I know, love. Serves me right for choosing her.”

Anna entwined her fingers and rested them in front of her, but only to keep from throttling the woman as she spoke into the phone. The passive aggressiveness was astounding. 

The woman hung up the call and turned to look at her. “For the fifth week in a row I have come to Kathy’s lesson and I have not heard one sound come from your booth.”

“Yes, ma’am, you were not mistaken,” Anna said. “She requires a firm understanding of musical theory to play, but we haven’t been able to progress far enough to play because of her behavioral problems.”

“My daughter doesn’t have behavioral problems!” The woman looked positively scandalized, placing a hand on her chest in horror.

Anna bit her lip. “I cannot make her sit long enough to pay attention.”

“She doesn’t have that problem with any other instructor. It must be your poor teaching.”

“Your daughter is not the first child I’ve taught, and I’ve taught younger. All of them have learned and grown from me,” Anna defended. “Bar strapping her to a chair and physically forcing her to pay attention, I do not know what you expect me to do.”

“All she requires are firm limitations. She will follow them if they are clear enough. She doesn’t have ADD.”

“I didn’t say she has ADD,” Anna remarked.

“That’s what you seem to be implying… that she has some mental deficiency. I had her examined and she does not have any attention issues.”

“No, ma’am,” Anna said. She loved performing and teaching music to anyone who wanted to learn, but it was this kind of customer service she hated the most—dealing with parents so far in denial they could not see the facts. “Perhaps she isn’t interested in playing an instrument… or even music in general?”

“Of course she likes music. And she couldn’t possibly know what she’s interested in. She’s nine-years-old! You show her what she should be interested in.”

Anna held up her hands defensively. “I feel, then, it would be best if we part ways. I can do nothing more for Kathy, and I don’t want to waste your time, Kathy’s time or my time.”

“ _Your_ time?!” The woman was becoming hysterical. “You haven’t given Kathy or me time since her lessons began. As a matter of fact, I seriously doubt your credentials!”

Anna clamped her jaw shut, biting her tongue and refusing to be drawn into this argument. She hated the woman.

“Your silence speaks volumes. We’ll find someone else. Someone better. I seriously doubt your qualifications. You call yourself a teacher, but you are nothing. I’ll be sure to warn all my friends about your poor service,” she huffed. She turned sharply and started down the hall for the front door, her heels clicking on the wood flooring.

The front door slammed shut, rattling the pictures that hung on the walls in their frames. Anna let out an exasperated breath. “I’ve played in the most prestigious concert halls in the entire world in front of world leaders and other musicians and the goddamn pope. Queen of England you most certainly are not, you ungrateful bitch! What have you done to earn that chip on your shoulder?”

“She married someone,” said a slowly drawling voice from her sitting room where her clients usually waited, “The wives of the minor nobility always feel entitled. It’s one of their charms.”

Anna spun around to face the intruder to her mini tirade, having not realized Tom had arrived while she’d been in the sound booth with Kathy. She’d almost forgotten in the midst of the all the Kathy drama that he would be coming by her flat. Thank goodness for that, too. She’d been stressed ever since she’d agreed to this plan yesterday morning. 

“Sorry you had to hear that,” Anna said, walking to a stack of reading materials that someone in the course of the day had knocked over. Knowing her previous clients, it was probably Kathy while she’d been waiting for the lesson before her to finish. Anna quickly ordered the stack, placing it back on the table. The magazines made an angry thwaping sound on the glass. Righting herself, she pushed the glass that were resting on her nose to the top of her head and looked around, placing her hands on her hips with another huff. “Alright. You ready?”

Tom shrugged and held up a violin case that had clearly seen better days. “I don’t think so.”

Anna sighed. “I can tell you right now that the violin is too small for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a quarter size,” she said. “I mean, if you want to play a violin meant for five year old… but your arms aren’t going to like it.”

“You can tell the size from the case?”

She chuckled and raised a brow at him. “I can size things fairly well without a measuring tape.”

He looked at her with a dumbfounded expression for a minute, but then chuckled. “Ah, so there is a saucy side to you.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “You caught me at a weak moment. You can leave that out here… go sell it or something. I have a full size you can borrow for a few lessons to see if this is something you really like.”

 _If we let this go past a few sessions,_ she finished in her head.

On one hand, she wished it wouldn’t. On the other, there was nothing more she wanted in this world than to have a very long, happy partnership with the man. Even if it was only music lessons. Despite her reticence, he had accommodated her at every term. He was a gentleman. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. 

She met his inquiring blue eyes and wondered what he was thinking, but he didn’t voice whatever was on his mind. “Well, come on. I haven’t got all day.”

“No,” he said with one of those charming smiles.

Anna waited for him to pass into the room, closed her eyes for a brief moment and took in a calming breath. This was the last lesson of the day. All she had to do was get through this unscathed. Unfortunately, Anna wasn’t so sure she’d come out of this ordeal free of worry.

Or worse, free of unwanted entanglement.

\---

Tom had never been so thankful to be invited in somewhere. He’d honestly thought for just a minute that she would kibosh the whole plan as they stood there looking at each other. After listening to the argument she’d had with her previous client, he wouldn’t have blamed her. But she was grace under fire the entire time, despite the short outburst after the woman had left. He couldn’t fathom having to deal with that sort of thing on a daily basis. Certainly there were those critics out there that were harsh on him, but nowhere near something like that.

“That chair’s good,” she intoned as he stepped into the tiny room with gray foam soundproofing on the walls. Crammed into the tiny room was an upright piano along the furthest wall, in front of which stood two plain looking wooden chairs. Two good quality metal stands accompanied the chairs. He took the chair in front of the music stand. As soon as he slid into the wooden seat, she grabbed the stand and moved it to the corner of the room and out of the way.

“So,” she said as she walked to a closet behind him. “What is your musical ability?”

“I know enough to be dangerous. I play piano, guitar, trumpet and sing on occasion,” he said. “But, you know, the last one is tenuous at best.”

She laughed lightly at his joke and pulled a case from the closet. “I just needed to know if you understood scales and notes and other theory.”

He nodded. “I do.”

Anna stepped back out and placed the rectangular black canvas case on his lap. “Your first lesson starts with a tour of your instrument.”

Tom nodded his head and reached to open up the case. This was the type of instrument he had expected to find in his sister’s old case. The wood gleamed and the strings looked new. As Anna began to run down the list of vocabulary for the violin, he only half paid attention. He knew enough about stringed instruments to muddle through. His attention, he realized belatedly, was on trying to figure out what the scent of her perfume was as she bent over him to explain something about the bow. It was flowery but light. Like gardenia but not.

She backed away and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen out of her long braid behind an ear. “Are you listening to me?”

Her voice was stern, like a teacher’s. A real teacher’s. He looked at her again and realized that he’d been well and truly caught. At least he hadn’t been gazing down her shirt. That would have been more difficult to explain away. Still, he couldn’t help but let his lips curve into a smile as he remarked on the fact that she was the exact embodiment of every schoolboy’s dream. At least she was for those who spent a great deal of time in the library.

Everything she wore was demure—from the calf length skirt to the high-necked top—but nothing about it, at least to him, was frumpy. Her curves were actually accentuated by the plain clothing, and in addition to the black-rimmed glasses resting on the top of her head, he was in a school boy’s heaven.

Clearly she didn’t realize the power she held. Everything about her, surely from her past, had made her shy and uncomfortable. How could he make her see otherwise?

“Sorry,” he mumbled and vowed to pay attention. He was, ultimately, grateful that the violin case was on his lap just then.

“Good. There will be a test next time,” she warned.

Tom grinned. “Multiple choice or short answer?”

Anna squinted her eyes at him. “Essay.”

“You’re a mean teacher. An essay after the first lesson?”

“With the headache I have, you’re lucky it’s not a pop quiz at the end of the lesson,” she warned and lowered herself into her seat. She crossed her ankles demurely and turned slightly to look at him.

“So is this a recording studio?” he asked.

“It’s doubled as one on occasion,” she said.

“Hmm,” he said. “Can I hear you play?”

“You’re just as bad as my last student. Pay attention,” she said.

He chuckled. “Okay, but only if you’ll play something.”

She raised one perfectly shaped brow at him. “Maybe after we’re done and only if you’re a good boy during the lesson.”

He liked this new playful side, more relieved than anything that their continued meetings were slowly breaking down the invisible barrier so that he could at least get to know her real personality. He knew there had to be more to her than a shy, eccentric musician.

“Okay, pop quiz time!” she said.

He laughed. “You said there wouldn’t be any!”

“I lied. Take your bow and show me how to hold it,” she said.

Having absolutely no idea how to do it, despite her having showed him while he was dazed by her perfume, he grabbed the end.

“You really are a knuckle-dragger, aren’t you?” she asked.

“What?”

“Neanderthal,” she said. “You just grabbed it like you’re going to club someone.”

“Oh,” he chuckled.

Anna sighed and reached over, taking a hold of his hand, arranging his fingers and explaining how to set them. “Now, you turn up slightly and bend the fingers forward, counterbalancing with your pinky resting on top of the end of the wooden part.”

“I feel like I’m going to drop it,” he replied.

“You won’t,” she said. “Also, don’t clench the muscles. You’ll cramp up or go numb.”

He relaxed his fingers as much as he dared, but it was difficult to relax completely with her deft hands on his. It was the lightest and most miniscule of touches, but it was something and he couldn’t ignore the softness of her skin or the feeling of electricity as her hand ghosted over his fingers.

“Now,” she said. “When we get around to picking up the violin, we don’t _mash_ or _saw_ forcefully at the strings.” She picked his violin up from the case and removed the case from his lap. “That’s one of the reasons we hold the bow so lightly. It prevents us from really digging in because it would hurt your hands and your ears too much to do it all the time.”

He nodded, following her with his eyes as she stood up, placing her bow against the strings and playing one long, perfect note. She spoke over it. “We _stroke_ the bow over the strings with sufficient pressure. Just enough pressure to produce sound, but not too hard or too soft. Properly rosined, the bow will catch the string, cause friction and produce the sound.”

To emphasize her point, she pressed too hard. The resulting screech made him cringe, momentarily making him forget that everything she was saying was incredibly sexual in nature. He wanted to mention it, but he didn’t know if she had intended it to be suggestive.

“Now, you take the violin,” she said.

He positioned it just as she had. 

“Rest your hand on the end since we aren’t using strings right now. No... yes, just like that,” she explained as he grasped the violin body next to the fingerboard. 

“When you play, the violin should be between nine and ten, but more toward nine at all times,” she said. “Sit up, shoulders back.”

Her hands were on his shoulders then, rolling them back. It was only then, as her fingers lingered on his body, that he wondered if she wasn’t doing this on purpose. Just yesterday, when they’d been out at the park, she’d done the same thing as she placed a hand on his chest to emphasize a point. There had been no mistaking then that her intention was to cop a feel, however chaste and fleeting it was.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“Wonderful,” he replied.

She walked back around him and sat in the empty seat. The lesson progressed from there, but nothing save a gun to his head would have made him pay attention to what she was saying. He learned the names of the strings and how to bow with them open, but it sounded terrible and when she leaned over to fix his hands, the warmth of her body made every nerve ending in his body crackle to attention.

From the moment she had run into him out at the park a week ago, he’d sensed something different about her. But between her frostiness at the coffee shop and learning her history from Wikipedia, he hadn’t taken the time to truly recognize just how dangerous this situation was for them both. Here she was frightened of him and what he could do to her, and he found himself barely able to control his reactions to her perfume, to her touch, to… everything about her.

This was no longer a conquest solely to figure out why she wasn’t falling at his feet. By the time she was done with the lesson and telling him to pack up the violin, it had turned into a burning need to get closer to her. No friendship with her would ever be satisfying to him. It was confirmation that he should just stop now while he was ahead. She wasn’t ever going to give him what he wanted; she more than deserved that right to make the choice for herself.

But then... but then she touched his hand, making him look up from zipping the violin case closed. There was something in those brown depths that was sad and thankful. It was something she wasn’t willing to voice aloud.

So she cleared her throat. “I, uh, hope you liked the lesson.”

“I did,” he replied. “But you didn’t play for me.”

“Can I ask for a reprieve until next time?” she asked. “I’m pretty exhausted after today.”

Tom felt a smile curve his lips. “Whatever you want, O Mistress of the Violin.”

She laughed, a bright red blush dusting her cheeks. “Gee, thanks.”

He knew she’d probably had enough of him and couldn’t wait to get him to leave. He’d intended on taking her out tonight as his “payment,” but the look in her eyes was pleading. It almost felt like it was too much, too fast for her.

“So, I have Tuesday free,” he said. “Do you have any lessons open that day?”

Anna stood from her seat and began organizing things in the room. He watched her move from thing to thing; it was as though she was attempting to find the courage to say what she wanted to say. When she finally stopped for a brief moment to look at him, she let out a breath.

“Tom...” she said.

“What?”

“I can’t teach you violin,” she said.

“You aren’t doubting your ability to teach, are you? That lady didn’t know what she was talking about...” he started.

Anna shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I... just... if there’s one thing in my life I’ve always been sure of, it’s been playing and teaching.”

Tom stood up and joined her side, placing a hand on her arm to stop her nervous cleaning. The muscles tensed under his touch as she whipped her head up to meet his eyes. That was when she froze. “What is the real reason you don’t want to teach me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Because I-I like you.”

Her cheeks inflamed a deeper scarlet.

“Because I feel things around you I haven’t felt in years,” she amended.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said.

“Yes there is,” she replied. “I can’t do this... it’s just not right to string you along. After... after all that I’ve been through, I just don’t know if I can...”

It was a small victory to hear these words coming from her lips, but they were tempered with the reality that she was pushing him away. At least he knew they were on the same page attraction-wise. Getting her to actually trust him, on the other hand, was another kettle of fish. One that he was begging to realize was a bigger problem than he could compete with.

“I’m not asking for anything,” he said. “I just want to spend some time with you.”

“I just...” Her breathing was growing rapid and shallow. The look in her eyes appeared dazed. But it had nothing to do with her attraction to him. “Excuse me.”

Before he knew what happened, she pushed past him and fled the room. He heard the distant sound of a door closing and latching. He sighed and left the small practice room.

“Anna?” he called.

“What?” Her voice was feeble and came from his right.

“I’m sorry if I did something to upset you,” he replied. 

Anna let out a rueful chuckle. He followed it to the closed door at the end of the hall. “It’s nothing you did.”

He sighed. “I’m just going to go, if that’ll make it better.”

“Don’t go!” she called. 

“But...”

The sound of shuffling on the other side of the door gave way to her opening it. Her eyes were watery with unshed tears.

“You at least deserve an explanation as to why I can’t do this,” she said in a rush of air.

He reached out for her, praying she didn’t shy away. To her credit, she let him lift her chin until she had no option but to meet his eyes. “Anna, I don’t want to cause you more harm than good. If you don’t want to...”

She shook her head defiantly. “No. I want to. I want to be friends with you at the very least, and this is something that you need to know.”

“That’s just the problem, darling,” he replied softly. “I’m not sure remaining friends with you is going to be possible.”

“Can you at least try for me?”

That clenched his icy heart and wouldn’t let go. But then, he’d always been weak for women like her. “Do you want to go get some dinner? Or I can go pick up some take away and bring it back.”

“Take away,” she said. “I don’t want to go out.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she said.

He sighed. “Alright. How does Indian sound? There’s a good little place down the way.”

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

He left her standing in the hall and made his way out of the apartment, trying to make sense out of just how they’d gotten to this point. Quickly deciding it wasn’t worth figuring out tonight, he left to find food. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see everyone! I am SO sorry that it’s taken me this long to update. Life has been crazy these last few months between school and personal obligations. I am still in love with this story, as I hope you all are, and I do intend to finish it with the upcoming months of an easier grad school course load over the summer.
> 
> Meanwhile, THANK YOU to everyone leaving kudos, commenting, bookmarking, or just reading. You are all amazing.

In the time that Tom was gone from the apartment, Anna set and reset the kitchen table five times, ran around picking up the rest of the house, hand washed dishes in the sink and alternatively bounced back and forth between being happy or frightened about the whole situation. She still didn’t know what the hell had possessed her to not only prolong their early evening appointment, but to invite him _back_ with food after she’d all but had a full blown panic attack in front of him. He did deserve to know the truth, that part she was sure of. However, she could have just told him and shooed him away. She wouldn’t have to see him any longer but for short, awkward passing in the lobby and the elevator when he came to visit Chris and Elsa upstairs. It would have been simpler that way. It would have been better.

When Dr. Stuart had suggested she call Tom up, he hadn’t said to do this. He had said to do what felt comfortable to her. This was the very opposite of comfortable. She wanted to scream and cry, and laugh and rejoice. What was it about Tom that had convinced her to prolong this torture?

She was no closer to an answer when Tom had reappeared, a bag of takeaway Indian food in his hand. He was incredibly gracious and kept his distance as they sat down to eat, but Anna knew that he could have been on an entirely different continent and he still wouldn’t be far enough away. Her stomach had knotted so tightly she couldn’t eat and pushed food around on her plate. It smelled so delicious, but she couldn’t even think about putting it in her mouth. Not with a jaw clenched as tight as hers.

So they cleaned up their mess in a silence similar to the one between them at the table. They commented on innocuous things. Stupid stuff. Like the brand of dish soap she used and the scent and what they were doing philanthropically around the world. She learned that he was getting more and more involved in UNICEF, she told him about the charities she supported. He washed dishes, she dried them and put them away. It was all so peaceful and utterly domestic. As Tom finished the last dish and turned the water off, she realized she had been lulled into a calm she had not felt in a long time—not with anyone.

The fact that it was with a man mystified her.

She turned to put away the stack of dishes and bowls. He leaned back on the counter in the tiny kitchen, sipping the tea that’d been steeping while they finished.

“You have a nice little place here,” he said thoughtfully.

Anna chuckled and glanced at him. “It’s certainly not the palatial suite upstairs.”

“I don’t know why they need that much with just the three of them,” Tom said. “It’s really kind of ridiculous, especially when they spend half the year traveling anyway.”

“Whatever makes them happy, right?” she said. With a shrug, she folded the dish towel up and looped it over the oven handle to dry. She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, looking around the kitchen. “Yep, it’s definitely little. I’d like just a bit more space in the studio.”

Tom stood and poured a cup of tea for her. There wasn’t a way to take it from him without touching his fingers, but she’d slipped a few times while they’d been doing dishes. She felt what was there when she touched him and it terrified her. It was those traitorous thoughts going through her head that had worked her up into the attack earlier.

He gave her a small smile but hid it with his own teacup. She sighed. “Living room?”

“Lead the way,” he said.

She did just that and sat carefully onto her well-loved overstuffed couch. Tom took the seat beside her, but made a conscious effort not to sit too closely. She was thankful for that.

“Tom, I…” she started. He didn’t push her to continue. He merely sat quietly, astutely, as though he hung on every one of the words that came from her mouth. It wasn’t off putting. It was actually kind of nice not to be talked over or made to do something she didn’t want just for the sake of keeping the peace. He was letting her move at her own pace. “I know you want something more, but I can’t give that to you right now. You deserve someone who can give you everything. I’m not in a place to do that.”

Tom sipped his tea with a thoughtful look on his face. He swallowed the liquid, placed the cup on the saucer and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch. Rubbing his long fingered hands together, he let out a soft sigh. “You don’t know what I need.”

“I have a pretty fair idea,” Anna remarked. “And I know I can’t give it to you. Friendship, maybe. But nothing else. And even the friendship bit has to be approached slowly.”

“But why?”

He was probing now as he turned to her. From the look in his eyes, she knew he must already know at least a little bit about her background. If he had learned it from the girl—Nola—the other evening at Chris and Elsa’s party, or had found information about it online didn’t matter. His body language was that of someone who knew, at least in part, what she’d been through. It felt extremely invasive and it unsettled her, despite having lived a life in the public eye for so long. Just once she’d like someone to wait for her to tell the tale rather than skipping ahead and reading bits and pieces of information that were often wrong, exacerbated or heavily redacted. Didn’t he understand that? Being a relative celebrity himself, wouldn’t he like that bit of privacy? This was her story to tell, not some stupid gossip website’s job.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “And frankly, I don’t know you well enough to even feel comfortable divulging all that information.”

His thin lips pressed into an even thinner line. What angered her even more was the fact that he wasn’t willing to fess up to snooping. It was this type of behavior that led to lying and cheating, and pointed to a whole myriad of character deficiency. Maybe he wasn’t so wonderful after all.

But even she knew she was searching for something tangible to end this entanglement before it got away from them. He wasn’t exactly being completely truthful, but that was a human flaw. It didn’t mean he was a psychopath like her ex-husband.

Anna shuddered involuntarily and swallowed around the dust in her throat. She took another sip of tea before setting the cup aside and folding her hands in her lap. He inched forward and reached out to grasp her hands between his. She tensed when his skin grazed hers, but she allowed her eyes to turn up to his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m easily upset-able.”

Tom cracked a small smile. “I know.”

“Please be my friend, Tom.” She hadn’t meant it to sound so desperate, but it did. Like a little girl’s entreaty to her parents to get in bed with them when she’s too frightened to fall asleep at night. And really, it was the same sort of thing. She was a scared little girl of falling into the abyss that she knew would only bring her pain. She needed someone to protect her. To be her friend. Not her friend through business or a friend like Dr. Stuart. She needed a genuine someone who would be her friend without all that other crap getting mixed into it.

He sighed. “I will.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I can’t promise I won’t fall in love with you, though,” he replied.

“It’s a risk we’ll just have to take.”

He laughed then, easing the tension considerably in the room. “Do you know how adorable you are?”

“I’ve been told on occasion,” she replied.

“But you don’t believe it.” The words cut deep. How could he read her so well?

She shrugged off his statement. “I hate to shoo you out, but I do have an early appointment tomorrow.”

He nodded his head and stood from his seat, looking around the small space. He located the jacket and scarf he’d set aside earlier and wrapped it around his tall, lanky frame. “May I leave the little violin in your care?”

“I think you should get it fixed up and donate it to an arts organization,” she replied. “Or to an auction or something. ‘Loki’s violin.’ I can see it now.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You know, for awhile there when we first met out in the park, I didn’t think you really knew who I was.”

“I have a deep appreciation for your body of work,” she remarked in an off-handed way.

He stopped in his movements toward the front door and turned to glance back at her with a wicked grin on his face.

“And you shouldn’t read that much into that statement.”

“Why not? It makes me hopeful.”

“Exactly.”

She placed a hand on his back and pushed him toward the door.

“Wait, what about my violin?”

“Oh! Right. Let me just...”

“Just keep it here for now,” he said. “It gives me an excuse to come back.”

Anna giggled. “Fine.”

He unlocked the door ahead of her and stepped out into the hall but stopped to turn to her. “Thank you, Anna.”

“I don’t know for what,” she said.

“For being awesome,” he replied and stepped forward. Before she knew what had happened, his right hand had raised and pushed hair from her cheek, ever so slightly grazing the scar beneath his fingers. He swept the hair behind her ear and he leaned down. She braced for a kiss and all the negative feelings she knew she would feel, steeling herself to the anxiety that would surface from the action. His soft lips briefly caressed her cheek in just such a way that she had to reach out for the door frame to steady herself. As he shifted back to look for any reaction from her, he smiled. “I’ll call you?”

“Yeah,” she said dumbly. 

“Good night.”

He nodded his head, sighed, chuckled and turned to head down the hallway. She watched until he turned the corner for the elevator before closing her door. Sagging against the paneled door, she pressed her cheek to the smooth wood. It was exceptionally cool, now that her cheeks were so enflamed. She breathed a sigh to calm the heart hammering in her chest. The action did nothing. It didn’t stop. She squeezed her eyes shut. How could that have been so wonderful and yet have been so painful? It just didn’t make sense to her. But then, she’d become accustomed to the fact that nothing made sense any more. It hadn’t for a very, very, very long time.

\----

Tom sighed as the lift arrived on the ground floor and the doors opened to reveal an exhausted looking Chris. The tall Australian blinked a few times, his eyes apparently bleary from a long day at the office. When Chris finally realized who was stepping out of the lift, he frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Anna,” Tom replied.

Chris chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. “Really? I didn’t think that would go anywhere.”

“Neither did I, but things have happened the last few days.”

“Good things?” Chris asked, elbowing him.

Tom shrugged. “Honestly, I have no bloody idea what’s going on… but I don’t care as long as I can spend some more time with her.”

“What is it about her that calls to you so much?”

“I haven’t a clue.” Tom rubbed his hands together when the front entrance door opened onto the cold night as two older ladies pushed inside the foyer. He pulled his jacket closer to his body and then stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets.

Chris grinned. “Alright, I have to go fall into my bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I don’t go in for a few more days,” he said.

“They didn’t call you?”

Tom shook his head, but remembered that he’d shut his phone off when he went to his violin lesson. He found the device in his coat pocket and pressed the button to turn it on. Sure enough, there were messages from everyone under the sun.

“We have to re-film that fight scene we did a few weeks ago,” Chris explained. “They decided to change something with the script and we have to go back and reshoot it while we still have that set built.”

Tom groaned. “But I was so looking forward to some time off.”

“Oh, come on,” Chris chided. “We’ve got time to relax when we’re dead.”

“Touché… alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tom waved his friend off and stepped out onto the quiet London street, breathing deeply and letting the chilled air fill his lungs. It invigorated him as he walked along the road in the direction of his flat. 

He stopped at his favorite coffee shop near the flat, in preparation for being up awhile to take messages off his phone and then rehearsing the lines and worrying about the physical stunts the following day. As he turned around from picking up his fancy latte, as his mum liked to call them, he nearly ran into the woman who stood behind.

“Oh, hello!” she said, flipping her long brown hair over a shoulder, revealing the decolletage in the deep v of her cashmere jumper. 

Tom looked over the girl again. The way she had greeted him so familiarly, he expected to know her. He wouldn't have forgotten her, anyway, considering how model perfect she was. She did have an air of familiarity about her, though, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out—

“Cassandra,” she replied. “You were sitting with Anna Celeste the other day at the West End Starbucks?”

“Oh!” he laughed at himself. Now he remembered her. She’d had wavy hair then and lots of makeup. Without all of the crap on her face, as she was now, she was infinitesimally more attractive. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

She grinned a perfect row of white, straight teeth. “I didn’t really introduce myself then. I was late and so excited to meet Anna.”

He smiled. “So you’re working with her?”

Cassandra nodded and turned her head when the barrista called her name. She grabbed her drink and sipped it cautiously before speaking. “Yeah, we both have the same manager. I’m trying to get my singing career off the ground and she’s helping with the demos. I didn’t want anyone else.”

“From what I hear, she’s a pretty big fish to catch for demos,” Tom said conversationally. Of course he knew it. With the list of accolades and awards he’d seen on the Wiki last week, she was at the top of her game. Well, at least she _had_ been there before everything had happened to her.

“Yeah, she is,” Cassandra said. “But she’s not doing anything else now, you know? She’s not getting calls to do much after everything that happened with her ex-husband. It’s such a shame about this business. You’re out for a little downtime and it’s impossible to get back in.”

Tom frowned. He didn’t feel right speaking so casually about Anna, but he’d be lying if he didn’t like having a conversation with someone about her. Especially since Anna remained so remarkably tightlipped about her own life. At least it was better than reading Wikipedia.

“Yeah, she hasn’t done a show in years. Kind of sad, really, because she is so amazing,” Cassandra replied. “But of course you probably know all this. Are you two friends or something? Dating?”

Tom chuckled pleasantly. He wished. But he also knew the question was leading. She was poking around for information, whether to then spill it to a gossip rag or to cozy up to him herself, he did not care. “Just friends.”

Her lips turned up in a sly grin and she took a step toward him, her ample chest brushing against his chest. Ah, so that was the reason. And his damned body had reacted to it to, much to her pleasure as her grin widened and she winked. He stepped back. “I should probably head out. I have an early filming day tomorrow.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “We should totally hang out sometime. Would you like my number?”

A denial should have flown out of his mouth, but it didn’t. Instead he paused for a moment and genuinely thought it through. The girl couldn’t be _that_ crazy if Anna had agreed to work with her. In addition to that, she was rather pretty and not a complete flake. If his romantic options with Anna weren’t going to pan out, there was nothing wrong with trying this on for size. For that matter, Anna had told him she was off limits. So was he supposed to remain celibate for a chance that might never come?

He couldn’t believe he was actually thinking like this. This wasn’t him. Well, yes, he was horny. It’d been a while since he’d allowed himself the pleasure, between the obligations that consumed his daily life. But he didn’t set his sights on one woman and sleep with another while he waited for the first to come around.

 _The other one most likely won’t_ ever _come around_ , he mused. There was nothing in the metaphorical rule book that said he _couldn’t_ be friends with Anna, even friends in which there was unrequited love, and not seek fulfillment elsewhere. In fact, she probably would welcome it, because it would take the pressure off of her.

But then he thought about what she’d been through. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t trust anyone and refused to open herself up to him. Was it fair to so easily throw the idea away when there _was_ a chance she might change her mind? If he did this, he’d only be proving to Anna that men were all the same.

“I…” he said. All he’d wanted was some damn coffee. Not an existential crisis.

She’s already taken his non-answer as an answer and handed him a cardboard cup sleeve with her number scribbled on it. “Give me a call. We can do lunch or something.”

“Sure,” he said. “Have a good night.”

She grinned one last time as he made his escape out into the London night. He walked for a little while and shoved the thing into his pocket. There was a stack of bits of paper, cocktail napkins, programs--you name it--back home with numbers and names of faceless women that he’d received recently. He knew this number would likely end up there, but he couldn’t help but think about it. His caveman hindbrain refused to ignore the fact that Cassandra would fulfill a need for him, probably very well. But his higher order brain let him know he was only replacing Anna and because of that, he’d never be satisfied. Then on the other side, if he took stock in coincidence, maybe his meeting Anna was only a vehicle for him to get to Cassandra. What if she wasn’t the one…

He knew better than that, though. Cassandra was pretty and probably a really nice girl, but there just wasn’t a whole lot going on in her eyes. Anna, on the other hand, excited him on a base, fundamental level. On an intellectual level.

Tom grumbled and shook his head, turning to head down the street toward his flat. Of course this was exactly what he needed on top of everything else. 

By the time he had reached his flat, he had decided not to call Cassandra. It was for the better, anyway. But instead of tossing the number, or burning it as he should have done, he placed it on top of the pile on his dresser to stare at him every time he walked on by.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all! Please enjoy the chapter.

Five days later, Tom found himself sitting outside a little café in Notting Hill across from the pretty brunette woman he’d officially met at the coffee shop after his evening with Anna. As he sat there and watched the birds peck about on the street and the servers weave in and out of tables, he questioned his life choices. And not just the one where he’d, in a moment of weakness less than twelve hours ago, called Cassandra and invited her out for drinks after a long day shooting. 

No, he questioned everything under the sun that had led to this terrible decision, mostly revolving around his morals and ethics and what type of man he was to actually go through with something like this. He knew men had fallen harder from greatness and over much more idiotic things, but he had always held himself to a higher standard. At least he tried to hold himself to that impossible ideal that traversed the lines of gentlemanly behavior that his mother would expect of him and pretty boy theater actor with a roguish charm. He did it well. He lived a decent life—certainly there was nothing particularly scandalous in his past that he would worry about if it got out to the press. But now he wondered about himself. How could he have let himself down like this, no matter how much he had needed to let off some steam? 

Mostly he’d done it because Anna had been incommunicado. He wanted to go out with someone other than family or his mates. He wanted female companionship for one night, even though he had never intended it to go this far. One thing had led to another as these things so often did, and they ended up back at his flat.

And she hadn’t been one to escape in the wee hours of the morning, either, like a good one night stand. Not that there was much one-night-standing involved; he hadn’t been so far into his cups that he hadn’t been able to stop that, but they had fallen asleep together after a night of heavy petting. She had stayed nonetheless… and stayed until eleven when she finally woke from her deep sleep. Then he was hungry, and so was she, so he did the gentlemanly thing and invited her out to lunch. Because he was a gentleman first and foremost.

He felt dirty and unhappy. Cassandra had been good, like he’d expected. But that spark… that spark he yearned for just wasn’t there.

“This quiche is to die for,” she spoke to fill the silence between them. He turned to watch her take another small bite. Like a rabbit. “Aren’t you hungry?”

He inclined his head to look at the fruit plate he’d ordered. “Not particularly. I’m still tired from last night.”

She grinned into her glass of water. “It was pretty great.”

He didn’t want to correct her and say he was tired from the filming that went all the way up to eight o’clock last night. His better manners refused to let him become snotty. She didn’t deserve it anyway. Even if it wasn’t so great. He had scratched an itch.

“So,” he said, “I have this thing to go to on Saturday, for my sister. She’s in the revival of _My Fair Lady_. Would you care to go?”

She swallowed her food as her eyes lit up. “Oh, sure, I’d love to.”

He really needed to stick something in his mouth. It kept getting him into trouble. He wanted Anna to go with him instead, but he was fairly certain that wasn’t going to happen, even if she would return his calls.

“It’s black tie,” he said.

“That’s okay. I have options,” she replied. “And a credit card if none of those work.”

Tom couldn’t help but laugh at her joke. She seemed like the type of person who didn’t need an excuse to go shopping and use said credit card. But it did make him wonder where her money came from, considering the fact that she hadn’t “made it” yet in the musical world and she clearly lived a life of leisure.

“Do you work?”

“What?” she asked. “Oh, no, I don’t. Well, I do. I’m always practicing, it seems like. My dad gave me the opportunity to try to make it as a singer, but if I don’t then I’ll have to find a real job.”

He nodded his head. “Nice dad.”

“He’s the best,” Cassandra said. “But speaking of jobs, I should really get going. I have a recording session to get to.”

Finally! A way out.

“Would you like to some along?” she asked. “I know you probably have a million things to do today, but we’re at Abbey Road. You could come and get a behind the scenes tour.”

And of course she had to come up with something like that to tempt him. Because it _was_ tempting. It was Abbey Road, for crying out loud. What other chance would he get to see something like this? Anna would be there, too. Maybe he could actually speak to her. But he was fairly certain that she would be able to see how filthy he was.

“I guess,” he said. “I don’t have anything else to do today.”

They quickly paid for the check and headed on down the road. The studio was only a few miles away, and he could tell they were getting close when he saw the groups of people standing around the street crossing, posing for pictures and stopping traffic. He was thankful when no one recognized him and they slipped past the gate into the front of the building. 

Cassandra checked in with the front desk, after which they were quickly ushered back to Studio 3. The studio was fairly common, as far as studios went. However, it was the energy of knowing what masterpieces had been created within these walls that was exciting to him. It was like setting foot on a soundstage on a famous movie lot or got to work with Steven Spielberg.

Only this time, it was a small recording studio and the Spielberg of this fete was Anna Celeste.

They stepped into the control room of the studio to a bustle of activity. This activity was mostly centered around the frenetic energy of the small blonde who flitted back and forth between control room and studio, issuing orders to the engineers sitting at their work stations, to guys moving a piano around in the main studio. It all came to a dead stop, though, when Anna looked up and saw them there.

She looked positively livid. Tom prepared to defend showing up with Cassandra, but quickly realized the anger was not directed at him. It was directed at Cassandra. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Cassandra said, her voice sweet and melodic. She smiled angelically as though it would soften Anna’s anger.

It did nothing to soothe Anna. She huffed indignantly. “Come with me.”

When Cassandra didn’t immediately move, Anna turned around and shot her a heated glare. “NOW!”

All of the men present stopped to watch the altercation, but flinched anyway at the ferocity in Anna’s voice. Cassandra followed Anna past everyone into the furthest corner of the whole studio and slipped inside a smaller room and shut the door. The men at the mixing boards looked between each other.

“What?” said the more portly of the two.

“Turn on the mic,” coaxed the other. 

Portly engineer sighed. “It’s wrong. It should be between them.”

“Look, we’re both pissed off she got here late,” said the first. “I need to hear this dressing down, especially with Anna doing it.”

Portly flipped a switch and Anna’s voice instantly flooded the room. “—you think you are? I’m sick and tired of you always showing up late and wasting my time, and then the studio’s time and everyone else’s.”

“I don’t care if you’re Eddie’s new Barbie doll star client or if your daddy’s paying for this or if you are fucking queen of the world. You show up to your appointments on time in respect to all of those people who are working hard for _your_ benefit. There are just as many wannabe singers out there with good money they could be working with, but they’re here for you.”

Cassandra huffed. “You’re being unfair! You said that you had to record your tracks first…and that…”

“I did,” she said. “But that was three hours ago. You have absolutely no idea what the hell you’re doing in a recording studio, so this process is going to take extra time to teach to you. I planned for this time to work with you, not to sit around on my hands waiting for your highness to appear. If you’re really serious about your fucking career, you get here a half hour _before_ your scheduled time. And you don’t show up with a guest!”

Tom flinched at that as both the controllers glanced at him. They had passing expressions of recognition, but didn’t do or say anything. The argument going from what Tom had to guess was a vocal booth in the back of the studio had captivated the audience.

“I don’t know what the problem is,” said Cassandra, “it’s not like you have anything else important to do. Right? Not after… well, you know…”

Tom didn’t need to see Cassandra’s face to know that it was a gibe at Anna’s current state of affairs, not performing and only teaching. There was a sharp intake of breath throughout the control room.

“Oh, girl, you did not just say that to her,” said the first assistant.

“Look, you ungrateful…” Anna stopped herself, the fury in her voice taking over. “You have absolutely no idea about my life. We aren’t friends. We aren’t girlfriends or work partners or anything of the like. I agreed to do this as a favor to a friend. I can walk right on out this door, take my tracks with me, and then you’ll be up a creek without a paddle. And your precious voice won’t get heard by whatever record executive gets your demo. I can guarantee you, no one at Celeste Records will be signing you.”

Cassandra scoffed indignantly, but didn’t say anything else.

“If you _ever_ ,” Anna said, pausing for effect, “ever insult me again, this is over like that.”

She snapped her fingers, after which there was a long pause and all Tom could picture was a Mexican standoff between the two. Finally, someone exhaled a big breath. Anna’s voice was calm, if a little tremulous. “Now, warm up. We’re starting in fifteen minutes.”

It was back to business as normal.

With that, Anna opened the door and stepped out. She shut the door very firmly—but didn’t slam it. The engineers flicked the microphone off and tried to look busy as Anna blew into the room and stalked over to an empty chair where a water bottle sat, grabbed the water, and left through a side door up some stairs.

Tom didn’t know what to do, so he tried to blend in with the scenery against the back wall. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long. Portly engineer stood up and offered his hand. “Mike Stone. That’s Fred.” He pointed to the other engineer.

“Tom,” he said. 

“I know. My kid won’t stop watching Avengers,” Mike replied.

Tom smiled.

“You gonna be here a while?” Mike asked.

“I, er, don’t know?”

Mike chuckled and pointed to the seat that had presumably been Anna’s before he had arrived. “Have a seat.”

So he did, not wanting to ruffle any feathers. As he sat down, he wondered what the hell he was doing here. More precisely, he wondered how the hell he got himself into these types of situations, namely where he’d made a stupid decision to entangle himself with a clearly self-absorbed person who was working with the woman whom he was really attracted to. He was a right idiot. There were no other men as stupid as he was at this very moment.

Wouldn’t this be one of his more harrowing stories to tell Chris the next time they were in the makeup trailer together.

\----

When she felt like she had sufficiently talked herself down from wanting to commit murder, Anna unfurled herself from the ball she’d curled into on the couch in the break room upstairs. No one had bothered her for the last twelve minutes and it was a supreme delight in the silent room to center herself without worrying about what was taking place downstairs.

She didn’t know what had happened, but she’d been working up to it since her first meeting with Cassandra. It had finally snapped. The girl was a decent enough girl with a good voice who could really make it because the physical package filled in the deficiencies of her talent. But making it on these principles meant she would have to work for it. There were tons of girls like her with better voices and better musical capabilities that would be signed before her. If she wanted this—truly wanted it—she needed to realize it wasn’t going to fall into her lap like the rest of her life had. And people certainly weren’t going to wait around for her forever.

Anna stretched her limbs and cracked her knuckles. Her piano teachers growing up had always complained about her doing that. They always said it would ruin her hands and give her arthritis. Anna couldn’t help it. It was a habit she could not break. With a sigh, she gathered her hair into a loose knot on her head, held in place by the black elastic that she’d had on her wrist. It was time to get to work.

The studio was busy as she stepped into the control room. Fred and Mike were carefully checking levels as Cassandra sang scales and warm ups in the background. Sitting in her chair across the room was Tom, who looked like a little boy sent to the headmaster’s office.

And then there was that.

Anna huffed. She had though Tom to be interested in her, especially in the way they’d left it the other night, but then she’d had a practice session the next morning with Cassandra and she’d learned about the exchange of phone numbers at the coffee shop.

Cassandra had been respectful enough then to make sure Anna didn’t have any design on him. She’d been surprised by Cassie’s thought to ask her if it was okay. Anna had replied that nothing was going on, they were friends, have at him. If Tom truly wanted something with her rather than Cassie, he was a big boy who could figure this out on his own. 

Still, that didn’t mean it hadn’t stung a little bit to know Tom had not been as earnest as he seemed. It proved to Anna she couldn’t trust herself to judge the character of others well enough yet. She had wanted to believe he was different—that maybe, just maybe she could let her guard down and allow him the opportunity to prove to her that a romance with him would be worth it. Now she knew the answer would be friendship and nothing else. Honestly, it was a weight off her shoulders, even if it had hurt her for a short moment to make that realization.

“You good?” Mike asked, glancing up from his controls.

She nodded. “Yeah, where are we?”

“We’re good on all our levels.” 

Anna nodded and walked over to her desk. Tom turned his light blue gaze up at her. “I’m sorry.”

She frowned. “What for? You didn’t do anything.”

He shrugged, but she could see repentant expression on his face. It didn’t melt her heart, though. She refused to be concerned.

Anna pursed her lips and ran her fingers over the mousepad on her computer to wake it up. “May I sit down there?”

Tom removed himself without saying anything else, and she slipped off her long-sleeved blazer. It was very warm in this small control room with all of the machines on... and people in it.

“Are you going to prep her?” Fred asked.

“Yeah,” Anna replied. “Just to make sure everyone’s on the same page… we’re doing Habanera first, right?”

Fred gave her a thumbs up, and turned back to his work.

Anna nodded, reaching over to push the switch to talk to Cassie. “You ready, Cassie?”

“Yeah,” she said, paused and drew in a breath. “Anna?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, her voice soft and truly contrite.

“I accept the apology,” Anna remarked. “But the let’s get to work, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cassandra said with an instantly bright voice.

“We’re doing Habanera first, if you saw the lyrics I placed on the music stand,” Anna directed. “What we’re going to do is three takes of the song straight through. You’ll hear the piano and click track over the headphones as we discussed a few days ago. Then we’ll have you come in and listen to what we have and discuss any changes we need to make.”

“Great. I have it,” she replied.

Anna looked at Tom, who hadn’t said anything else was standing around like an idiot who had no clue what he was doing. “Go sit in the folding chair over there.”

He obediently moved to the chair, sat down and made himself at home. 

After a few more adjustments, recording commenced.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My many thanks to everyone reading! Please enjoy this update!

Anna quickly packed her computer bag up and gathered her things to leave, anxious to get out of the building without having to spend any more time than today’s three hours with the uppity ingénue. The last thing she wanted to do was stop to talk to Cassie, or Tom, at length when she had an appointment with Dr. Stuart to get to. God help the good doctor, because he was going to have a hell of a time in this session after she told him everything that had happened because of his stupid suggestion.

She made it to his office with time to spare and with thoughts of Tom frolicking through her head unbidden. The girl who had been there the week before sat up a little straighter and smiled as she went to the window to sign in. Mandy smiled pleasantly. “Good afternoon, Ms. Celeste.”

“Hi, Mandy,” she said. 

“I’ll let Dr. Stuart know you arrived.” Mandy smiled got up from her desk to let him know.

Anna slipped into a seat in the waiting room and remained there for about five minutes when the white-haired man poked his head out the door. “There you are. Well, let’s get to it, then.”

She followed him back to his office, in the familiar routine that had been her Thursday afternoons for the past year. Once she was comfortable and looking at him as he reviewed her file, wrote down some things, the world felt right again. Comfortable.

The comfort, though, evaporated almost instantly when there was a light knock at the door and Mandy stepped inside the room carrying a file. She looked nervous to be there. Shaky and unsure, though it wasn’t because she didn’t know what she was doing. Her pale hazel eyes were astute and sympathetic; her discomfort came from something else. Like she didn’t want to be in the office with them; as though she didn’t belong.

“Mandy is going to sit in on our session with us,” Dr. Stuart said. “If that’s alright with you.”

Anna shrugged. “If she really wants to.”

It appeared that sitting in on the session was the very last thing Mandy wanted to do, but she sat herself firmly into the seat beside Dr. Stuart, crossed her legs and opened her folder.

“She’ll only be taking notes and listening into how I conduct the session,” Dr. Stuart explained. “She won’t be doing any talking.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Anna replied. “Everyone’s got to learn sometime, huh?”

“You’re one of my easier patients,” Dr. Stuart remarked. “I knew you’d be a good sport.”

Anna chuckled ruefully. Easy? Sometimes she didn’t feel like it was all that easy.

“So,” Dr. Stuart began. “We left off our shortened session last time with the assignment I gave to you to call that chap…”

“Tom,” she said. “And I did that.”

“How did it go?”

“We went running the next day,” she said.

“And how was that?”

Anna shrugged. She knew everything Dr. Stuart did in therapy was to help her, but there were just days she didn’t want to talk about this stuff. “Tense.”

“Did he do anything untoward?” 

“No,” she said. “He was a gentleman… he just… he’s intense. He’s obviously interested in me romantically, and I can’t give that to him right now. We discussed being friends, but I know that’s not what he truly wants.”

Dr. Stuart sat back in his seat, resting the elbow of his right arm on the armrest. He set his cheek on his hand and looked at her curiously. “What if you _could_ give him that commitment right now? Do you fancy him enough that if you weren’t recovering from all of this, that you might go on a few dates?”

“If you’re going to suggest going on a real date with him, then I refuse to do that assignment,” she said.

“Why would you? What if I thought it necessary to your recovery?”

“I’m not ready for it,” she said. “And he most certainly is not ready for it. He met the girl I’m recording with and now, apparently, they’re a thing. He showed up the studio with her today.”

“How did he meet the girl?”

“She said they met the other night after he had dinner with me,” she said.

“Hold on.” Dr. Stuart raised a hand to emphasize his request. “When did you two go to dinner? You said you went jogging.”

Anna sighed and looked at her hands. “We did. Then he conned me into giving him a violin lesson the next evening. After the lesson, I had a panic attack with him there. For some reason I invited him to stay to dinner, he went to get some take away and came back. Nothing happened. We just talked. I reaffirmed that I wasn’t ready for romance, but friendship was okay. On his way out the door, he kissed me.”

“He kissed you,” Dr. Stuart said. It wasn’t a question. Rather, it was rhetorical, thoughtful. He still wanted her to continue.

“On the cheek.”

“Did you have another attack?”

“Well, no, not completely like the others,” she replied. “I was good, but it was still painful.”

A slow smile crossed Dr. Stuart’s face as he scribbled some notes into her file. “I think we may be confusing pain for something else.”

“It was pain,” she said. “It hurt.”

“Did it hurt you like your ex-husband hurt you?”

“No,” she conceded. “It just… everything he has tried to do is difficult and painful and upsetting. _He’s_ upsetting even though he seems to be a good guy.”

He nodded. “Anna, based on what you said last week and what you’ve said so far this week, I think what’s going on is that you’ve associated your romantic feelings with pain. It’s classical conditioning, if you will. Have you heard of the Little Albert experiment?”

“No.”

“May I explain it to you?” he asked.

She nodded her head. He relaxed in his chair and folded his hands in his lap as though he were preparing for a conversation with an old friend.

“To sum it up, researchers took an emotionally stable, normal baby boy and introduced it to several different animals, like dogs and rabbits and mice and rats. Little Albert showed that he liked the animals. He even tried reaching for them and playing with them. After some time doing this, whenever Albert reached and touched the rat, they would strike a hammer on a steel bar. This sound scared Albert. They continued to make the sound every time he touched the rat. After some time, they again presented the rat to Albert without making the frightening sound, but he still cried, showed fear and tried to get away from the rat. He developed an aversion to the rat, not because he need be fearful of the animal, but because he was trained that the rat brought with it bad things.”

“Am I to take from this, then, that men are rats?”

Dr. Stuart huffed and shook his head. “Apply it to your situation. You clearly learned from your past relationship that any romantic attention of the male kind and your response to it will inevitably mean pain to you. What your husband did to you is reprehensible. He so profoundly abused you that you’ve come to feel pain when you should be feeling excitement and pleasure. You, in response, go out of your way to avoid those types of situations. You lock yourself in your flat and don’t go out. This , of course, was complicated by your depression and anxiety, but we have that pretty well managed now. What’s left is the conditioned response. And the only way to break that is to—.”

“Is to face it head on,” she finished for him. Of course that was the only option.

He moved his head in confirmation. “What makes it all the more confusing for you is that attraction… physical, romantic, whatever you want to name it… mimics the same biological reactions as your anxiety and panic attacks.”

“I’m not a child, I think I would know the difference between those two things,” she said.

“Intellectually you do,” he said. “But you have been with me long enough to know there’s a vast ocean between the conscious and subconscious.”

Anna nodded her head, glancing at the silent girl still sitting beside Dr. Stuart. Mandy had wide eyes as she listened to the conversation, but now she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Anna grabbed one of the small throw pillows lying on the couch beside her. She hugged it to her body, trying to calm her roiling stomach. She couldn’t believe that it could be this simple, and yet it made perfect sense. The man hadn’t steered her wrong in over a year… 

“I think we’ve just nicked the heart of the underlying problem,” he said. “To get you to that final, emotionally repaired state, we have to confront it. I think we may yet discover that your fear of returning to performing is in this twisted web, likely because he was so linked to your personal and professional life.”

She agreed.

“The way to get past this is more desensitization,” he explained. “Whether it’s with this chap—er, Tom—or not, I don’t care. You need to talk more on the phone. Attempt more contact with men outside of your friends and family. It’s not going to be easy, but it has to be done.”

Anna looked down at the pillow in her lap and played with the tag on the edge. Hot, stinging tears were pricking the backs of her eyes, wanting to spill over and down her face. He was right; she knew that deep down on the most fundamental level. She just didn’t know if she was ready for this step. For any of it. For talking to men. Allowing them to actually look at her as a man looks at a woman instead of hiding behind layer upon layer of clothing and stringy hair. Protecting herself with this armor wasn’t going to work any longer.

“What are you thinking and feeling now?” Dr. Stuart asked.

After a few moments and swallowing around the lump in her throat, she croaked, “Terrified.”

“Good, that’s how you should feel,” he said. “But if you follow my steps, you won’t feel that way for long. You have to start allowing people back into your life now, whether they’re men or women, romantic, friendly, or an audience in front of you.”

“It sounds like so much,” she replied.

Dr. Stuart smiled warmly. “One step at a time. You’ve shut yourself away for so long, it’s time to reclaim your life.”

That wasn’t the first time she’d heard the statement from the man, but it was finally starting to make sense, for which she was grateful.

“So what’s the first step?” she asked.

“You already did that by calling Tom,” he said. “You actually far exceeded the steps, but since it was all uncomfortable, we have to work at making it comfortable. So you need to do more of that. Talking to him. Maybe spending more friendly time with him or someone else. Maybe make a new female friend—you need someone here in London to gab with, not just little old me once a week. Find things to go out and do with people. And once you are at a comfortable place with doing these things, we can move on to the next step.”

Anna nodded in agreement. She knew it was a long road, but she felt for the first time in a long time, that she could glimpse the light at the end of the tunnel. At least now she had a goal to strive for… even if it took years to get to that place.

\----

Tom hated himself. He hated himself as Cassandra kissed him goodbye. Hated himself as he walked home. Hated himself as he showered for work. Hated himself while in makeup, and then wardrobe, and filming and during the ride home. Hated himself for being a complete and utter tosser who had slept with the object of his affection’s client because he felt he’d needed to blow off some steam. 

Most of all, he hated himself for not nipping this Cassandra thing in the bud as soon as the recording was done for the day.

When he reached home that night, he grabbed a very large, very potent, stout from the refrigerator and trudged into the living room to curl into the fetal position on the couch. Maybe if he fell asleep he could wake up in the morning and have a do-over. Maybe he could put Cassandra in her place and repair whatever damage he’d done to his relationship with Anna. She hadn’t deserved that. Even though she had made it clear while at the studio that she didn’t care if he had slept with Cassandra, it didn’t change the fact that he’d seen the disappointment in her big, chocolatey eyes.

He was ashamed. What would his mother say about all of this? She’d probably hit him over the head.

As if on cue, a shooting pain rocketed through his head. Mandy walked on by him as he reached for the area where she had hurt him. “What was that for?”

“For being an utter clot,” she said.

“Did I do something to you?” he asked. “Did I forget to do the washing up again?”

Mandy rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It’s for the company you had last night.”

“What of it?” he asked.

“The name I heard being called last night most certainly was _not_ Anna,” she replied. “What happened to Anna?”

Tom pressed his lips together distastefully. “I don’t need it from you too.”

“From me… too? Who else thinks you’re a clot?”

“I think myself a clot,” he remarked. “A gigantic one. What’s even worse is she’s not even some random girl. Anna is working with Cassandra on a demo. God, that sounds so terrible. I really messed up, didn’t I?”

Mandy softened but gave him a withering glare nonetheless. “I don’t think ‘messed up’ is a strong enough word. Bungled. Fucked. Take your pick.”

“I don’t think there exists a word in the English language that would accurately define the mess I’ve made,” he replied. “Not only did that… thing… happen last night, I went to breakfast with her and invited her to Emma’s premiere on Saturday.”

The information stunned Mandy enough that it took her some time to regroup. “I thought that was for family and very best friends, not chicks you sleep with because you can’t keep it in your pants?”

“It is for family and friends!” he exclaimed. “But it was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Cassandra’s a classical singer, so I thought she might like it.”

“And Anna, the world renowned virtuoso, wouldn’t?” Mandy asked. “Why didn’t you ask her first when you had your violin lesson?”

He shrugged. “I just didn’t want to scare her off. She’s like a skittish deer, ready to bolt at any minute. At any sound or quickly movement. I didn’t want to ask her, have her freak out, and then deal with the rejection.”

“She can’t help it, Tom,” Mandy replied. “We had that chat a week ago. I told you she would be difficult. Give her time.”

Tom ran his fingers through his hair, digging them into his scalp for a massage. It didn’t help his headache. “I don’t even like Cassandra. That’s the irony of it. The only thing she has going for her is fake breasts and an attractive face.”

“You know, I really abhor men sometimes,” Mandy grumbled. She grabbed the stack of her school books sitting on the table beside the chair, curling them against her chest. “You can still cancel on her.”

“But then I’d have to take Aunt Mildred.” 

“Oh, the really horrid one?”

Tom nodded.

“It would serve you right.”

“And wouldn’t it.”

“I mean, you can do whatever you want,” Mandy replied. “Anna’s not going to be there, right? She won’t see you there with Cassandra unless there are pictures of the red carpet and she specifically goes looking for it. But for your sake, I’d end it with Cassandra before _she_ gets the wrong idea and you have an even bigger problem.”

Tom rubbed his face with his hands and met his friend’s eyes. “I’ll figure out what to do.”

Mandy fixed him with an unimpressed stare. “I don’t think there’s any figuring involved in this. Just do.”

“I’m not going to be a complete prick about it,” he said. “Cassandra doesn’t deserve that, no matter how self obsessed she is.”

“How did you even meet this Cassandra? Did Anna specifically introduce you two to take attention away from her?”

“No. Cass was late arriving for a meeting with Anna at the West End Starbucks last week, and then again at the coffee shop up here this time,” he explained.

Mandy blew a long breath out of her mouth and shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder about you, Hiddleston.”

“You and me both.”

After a long silence, she shook her head.

“Well, I have to go study,” she said and moved back toward her bedroom. “I’ll see you later.”

“Night,” he replied as she closed the door behind her. Tom huffed and looked around the quiet room, debating on a late night run or not. 

Deciding that he was too exhausted after all the self punishment, he instead went to his own bedroom to curl into the fresh bedclothes he’d put on it before leaving for the set that afternoon. A good night’s sleep would help sort through everything. It always had in the past. Hopefully it worked this time, because he sorely needed some guidance.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading, all! Thanks for the kudos!

Anna turned in her full length mirror for what felt like the five hundredth time, surveying her clothing and making sure that the Spanx beneath the unforgiving, liquidy silver fabric did not show through. She had loved this gown when it was made for her now more than six years ago; the smooth luxuriousness of the fabric, the way it moved with her body, always made her feel amazing even when her body wasn’t cooperating. As anxious as she was tonight—even despite the addition of the Spanx beneath—it still managed to make her feel good. 

What was more, the constant preening took her mind off of the fact that in a little while she would be out in public for the first time since her divorce. And that she hadn’t shown this much skin to anyone in just as long. And that, in a crazy fit of courage a little earlier, she had allowed the hair stylist to construct a conservative, but beautiful, up-do which left the scar on her face completely visible. Luckily the makeup did a fair job hiding the worst part of it, but it was obvious that it was there. As was it obvious to see the light pink scars that remained on her shoulder and arm. People didn't know the extent of her injuries; she'd purposely kept those hidden.

But she knew she had to face the music sometime. She just couldn’t believe it was so soon.

A knock on her bedroom door startled her out of her thoughts. She cleared her throat. “Yeah?”

“You ready?” asked the voice from the hallway.

“Almost,” she replied. 

“The car’s waiting,” said the voice as hard soled shoes retreated down the hallway to the front room. 

She grabbed her clutch from her dresser and quickly stuffed make up, her phone and keys into it. For a brief moment, with her hand on the handle, she considered not walking out that door. Walking out that door would mean there would be no turning back. She would have to go to this premiere.

The voice niggling in her brain, that oddly sounded more and more like Dr. Stuart, told her to turn the handle. So she did. She could do this.

She left her room and moved down the hall, stepping out into the living room where her accompaniment for the night was waiting, looking dashing in his Burberry tuxedo. Eddie could look good in rags, if he wanted; he was the very definition of a Latin lover and had the charm and handsomeness to back it up.

He finished combing his black hair back and turned to look at her, pausing in surprise. A slow smile spread across his tanned face, and shook his head. “I thought the idea was to remain on the down low tonight.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you, my beautiful, amazing friend, cannot look like that and remain on the down low.”

Anna frowned. “Is it too bad? I can go try to get into something else…”

He reached out to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Anna, babe, quit thinking negatively. What I meant is that you look absolutely stunning. I haven’t seen you like this in ages.”

Anna chuckled uncomfortably. “Almost four years.”

“You _do_ look amazing, Anna,” he said. “And I’m so happy you decided to go with me tonight, even if it was Dr. Stuart’s influence.”

“I miss you, too, you know” she replied. “Even when you’re annoying me about business matters.”

He smiled. “I told Cameron you were planning to come. He seems pretty excited to see you.”

“It’ll be nice to see him, too.” Anna smoothed a hand over her abdomen anxiously. “Are you sure I look alright? The dress doesn’t look too… 2006?”

He stepped back and looked her over again. “Babe, some things never go out of style. But I do have something to compliment it.”

Eddie walked over to the couch where his outer coat and scarf lay. He pulled from the folds a black velvet box. “I knew tonight would be a big deal for you, so I got you some jewels on loan.”

“On loan? You mean I can’t keep them?” Her sarcasm was not lost on him as he shot her a smirk. “How thoughtful.”

“Well, you know me. The master of all things romantic,” he said and pulled the top of the box back.

Inside the box was a gorgeous pair of blue sapphire and diamond chandelier earrings and a matching necklace with a large teardrop sapphire that would clearly dress up the little bit of cleavage the cut of the dress allowed.

“They’re beautiful,” she said. “You really know how to show a girl a good time. Too bad Cassandra couldn’t go with you… will you help put it on?”

He shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the necklace, securing it in place. “If I’m being completely honest, I’m glad you’re going with me instead. I like you better.”

Anna laughed loudly at that, adjusting the weight of the necklace on her collar bones. “It’s nice to know I haven’t been completely replaced.”

Eddie was shaking his head as he stepped back around to look at her. “Anna, no one can replace you. You’re the shining star that got me into this crazy business and who has made me incredibly successful. What’s more, you’re one of my closest friends. Don’t you ever forget that… no matter if a spoiled brat comes along.”

Anna smiled, feeling suddenly emotional.

“Don’t start that,” Eddie said. “I was just starting to enjoy having fun, happy, laughing Anna back.”

“Sorry,” she replied. “It’s just really good to have someone here for a change.”

Eddie helped her into her coat and she did the same for him. “We could see each other a lot more if you moved back to the states.”

“I know.”

“But we’re not going to discuss that right now. Right now, I’m taking you out to see a show, and you’re going to knock everyone’s socks off, and they won’t be talking about the premiere tomorrow. They’ll be talking about you.”

Anna looked at him. “I really don’t want them talking about me.”

Eddie shook his head as he placed a hand on the small of her back to move her toward the door. “It’ll be all good, I promise. I sent releases to the media outlets that’ll be there.”

“That’s what frightens me,” she said. “I don’t want it to be too much…”

“Do you trust me?” he questioned.

“You know I do.” Anna locked the door followed him to the lift.

He grabbed a hold of her hand, squeezed it and then wrapped an arm securely around her body as they took the vehicle to the ground floor. “I will protect you tonight. You feel one bit uncomfortable, we’ll leave.”

“What if I feel uncomfortable now?”

“I mean more so than you usually do in these situations,” he replied.

Anna rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help a smile that crossed her lips. Despite her anxiety about this evening, she knew unequivocally that she was in good hands. Eddie would protect her to his dying breath.

She just wished she’d listened to him six years ago when he tried to protect her then.

“Let’s do this.”

Eddie grinned and squeezed her to him one last time before they stepped out into the lobby.

\----

“… well, I’m here with my mum and my aunt, so we won’t be out late at the after party, but we definitely have to see Emma afterward.” Tom explained to the reporter in front of him on the decently long red carpet leading into the theatre.

“Are you excited to see your sister in her first big role?” the woman asked him.

Tom grinned and nodded. “Excited. Proud. I know she’ll be fantastic, but you know there’s that anxiety there of a big brother worried about his baby sister. She’s wanted this for so long, and I’ve been so worried that she would get taken advantage of—you know it’s so easy in this business for those of us hungry to make a name for ourselves—but she’s a million times better than I could ever hope to be.”

“Great,” the reporter said with a big smile. “Thank you for your time.”

“No, thank you,” he said, giving a slight nod of his head before turning to the handler standing behind him to move him on to the next. It was strange not to have Luke there with him, but since this was minor as far as press went, he’d sent along one of his assistants to see to it that he kept moving down the line of reporters instead of stalling at one. Still, this was better than having to contend with Cassandra all night. He knew he’d made the right decision to disinvite her, even if he’d had to deal with her poor attitude.

At the bend in the carpet that led up the stairs to the entrance lobby, a commotion at the beginning of the line made him turn to look. Photographers were shouting names left and right. The flashes from cameras blotted out any chance of making out who had arrived and caused such a flurry, even as he craned his neck over other gawkers to see who was there. He wasn’t aware of anyone particularly important showing up, but there was always a chance a member of the royal family or some other well-to-do could make an appearance.

He squinted into the madness again, but it didn’t help. A hand at his elbow made him turn to look at the woman beside him. “We should probably be going in.”

Tom nodded his acquiescence even though he looked up one last time. It was then that he saw _her_. She was slipping out of a soft looking evening coat and handing it off to another nondescript handler, and standing there like a confident goddess in her silver floor length gown. He’d never seen someone look so beautiful. She seemed reasonably relaxed, happy and poised for the situation. Not at all scattered like he had seen her at other intense moments over the last few weeks.

When it really connected with his brain that he was looking at Anna—and that it was, what he expected to be, the pre-husband version of the woman—he wondered why she was here. He hadn’t invited her. Had she known she was coming all along? Why hadn’t she said anything?

Why hadn’t _he_ invited her anyway?

He wanted her to be here and with _him_.

A surge of jealousy made his fingers itch to wipe the grin off of her companion’s face. The guy was incredibly attractive for a man, well groomed and decidedly very friendly with Anna. He laughed and played with the assembled press, made Anna laugh, and equally soothed her with a firm hand on her back or by leaning down every so often to speak into her ear. 

No, Tom didn’t want to wipe. He wanted to strangle.

What was so special about this man that Anna was here with him and clearly completely comfortable? What did that man have that he didn’t? Sure, the man with her was more attractive, but he was definitely older. Too old for her, in his opinion. How could he make her feel so at ease that she wasn’t running away from him all the time?

Tom bit his lip too hard and grimaced. It wasn’t like he had any right to complain. One look from another pretty girl and he was falling into bed with her. 

Anna was different, though. So, so different.

“Tom? We’re really holding up the line,” said his handler.

Tom blinked back his thoughts and looked at the line behind him. “Oh, sorry. Let’s go in.”

He reluctantly followed the woman into the theatre where he met up with his mother and aunt. He thought, very briefly, about telling them about it, but that would only invite more questions. And that was the last thing anyone needed. Instead, he’d find his seats with his family and try to forget about it until intermission or the after party where he felt sure he would run into her.

\----

Their seats were three rows back from the orchestra, stage center. They were good seats, some of the best in the house, but she had always preferred sitting a little more middle of the room for better acoustics and a view of the stage.

Anna took a big breath as she relaxed into her seat, glad the media maelstrom was done for the next few hours. Of course, the constant barrage of “industry” people who came to say hello to her and Eddie once inside the theatre was a little tiresome, but she had expected it to happen. She was happy to be there and made sure to keep smiling to avoid anyone getting the wrong idea. At least they all—well, those who knew her—seemed excited to welcome her back into the club.

“You did great,” Eddie said as he slipped into the chair beside her. “You doing okay?”

“I’m better than expected,” she replied. “Thank you for fielding questions out there for me.”

Eddie nodded and handed her one of the playbills he had in his hands. “Any time.”

Anna flipped through the playbill, reading through the cast of characters and the actors playing them. A name in the bolded black print made her freeze. “Emma _Hiddleston_?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s playing Eliza,” Eddie said nonchalantly as though it were another day at the office. 

Of course he wouldn’t know about her acquaintance with Tom. Not many people did. Just Dr. Stuart, and his student Mandy, and then Tom and Cassandra.

The thought, then, that came unbidden to her brain was, _Is he here?_

Anna didn’t know what she was doing as she straightened her spine to get a better look through the throng of people still circulating through the theater. Was he here? He should be here if it was for his sister. Why hadn’t he mentioned anything about it at dinner last week?

“Her brother, Tom, is really making waves in movies these days,” Eddie continued as he flipped more pages, not paying attention to her movements. When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “You know who Tom Hiddleston is, right? He did a fabulous job in _War Horse_ and—.”

“I know who Tom Hiddleston is!” she exclaimed, perhaps with too much aggravation in her voice as it caused Eddie to look up at her over the rim of his black glasses. “I don’t live under a rock.”

 _And I may have run into him a few weeks ago and we may have seen each other since,_ she finished in her head.

“I didn’t mean to…” his voice trailed off and his dark eyes squinted at her. She fidgeted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. “You good?” 

“Quit asking me if I’m alright,” she remarked. “I’ll let you know if something’s wrong.”

“Then what are you looking for?”

Anna, upon not finding Tom, turned and rested into her seat with a defeated grunt. Eddie raised a quizzical brow but didn’t press her for more information. She turned back to her playbill and devoured the rest of it before the lights to dim.

But of course, as soon as the lights dimmed and the musical started, all she could think about was Tom. And the fact that Emma looked a lot like Tom, even if she were prettier and feminine. There were mannerisms in her that were similar to Tom’s. The way she carried herself was similar, and not just that same familiar poise of a trained theatre actor. This woman was clearly related to the man currently and unabashedly occupying her thoughts.

Since Thursday morning, she had tried to convince herself of her annoyance with him. But even she couldn’t be annoyed at him. If she were a man in his position, she probably would have slept with Cassandra, too. The realization didn’t make the situation any more palatable, obviously, but instead of allowing her respite from the traitorous thoughts of romance and… _more_ … every time the man was around her, they were simply doubled. Except now they were intermingled with jealousy. 

Even though she was terrified of a relationship and facing the fearful wounds wrought by her ex-husband, she realized she still wanted his attention. His _undivided_ attention. It had felt amazing for that short time to know that a man was interested in her like that. Not like Eddie who could not see her as anything more than a friend or business partner. And even though the specter of her ex shadowed her every thought, feeling and movement, she realized now how nice it had been to spend time with Tom recently.

Maybe Dr. Stuart was right. Maybe she _was_ ready to move on to the next phase of her life. That crush of photographers and press would have sent her scurrying to the nearest empty room to lock herself away had it been a year ago. Now she felt relatively calm, if still slightly uncomfortable. She could handle this.

Maybe she could handle Tom.

Of course, it was a little late for that and she wasn’t even sure she could voice that to him. What would she say? _I want you to want me, but I won’t let you have me?_ Yeah, that sounded like a great plan. No wonder he’d gone after Cassandra when he had the chance. Nobody wanted to be stuck in a holding pattern like she wanted him to be.

Anna shifted in her seat uncomfortably and noticed Eddie’s glance out of the corner of his eyes, but to his credit he didn’t ask if she was okay for the millionth time. Instead, she let out a soft sigh and focused on the handsome actor playing Freddy Eynsford-Hill. She’d worry about Tom Hiddleston later.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My continued thanks to all reviewers, kudo-ers, and readers! Enjoy!

Tom didn’t know what surprised him more: the fact that Anna had come tonight or the fact that when she walked into a room, people stopped and stared. It wasn’t the negative kind of staring and judging that people could do, especially in this business. Rather, it was a mix of awe and reverence of the woman, out of respect for her ability to pick herself up and face the world after whatever happened in the past, but he was also sure it had a little bit to do with how stunningly beautiful she was tonight.

Of course, he thought that the Anna who’d run into him out in the park that day two weeks ago was exceedingly attractive, even though she had been plain and unassuming in her personal decoration. She’d worn her layers of clothing then, and the few other times they’d met, like armor, with her long hair covering her scar like a shield. That wasn’t so tonight, in that sinfully luxurious silver gown. Tonight she wore a different kind of armor, which he was sure was named Confidence, which amplified her beauty a million fold. When she walked into a room—even a room full of people who weren’t there to see her—she commanded a huge amount of attention.

The increased attention made getting to her to talk incredibly difficult. So, he settled for watching her all through the performance, four rows ahead of him and stage center. He’d contemplated getting up during intermission to say hello, but that was also impossible as someone came over to talk to him. And then from the moment she’d arrived at the after party, she’d not been without people coming up to her and acting like they were all old friends.

He knew, academically, that this woman was a respected musician and came from a very prominent family who had a hand in several of the world’s major musical acts past and present. However, he had never considered just _how_ wide her influence stretched. It was difficult to understand it when she carried herself like a quiet little mouse, scared of every minute thing, teaching violin from her tiny flat in the middle of Notting Hill. He’d seen her as a school marm—okay, a hot one—but hadn’t thought about… _this_. 

And he seriously questioned whether he would have been able to handle her celebrity in his life had they actually progressed into a relationship with each other.

Tom loved everyone he met, but he loved being the center of attention more. It was a side effect of growing up a middle child that he was a natural born entertainer in need of recognition and a following. He liked the adoring crowd. He thrived off of the energy. His fans commented on how gracious he was taking time with them, but they didn’t realize they also served a very valuable purpose in boosting his confidence. Because they treated him very well, it gave him the push he needed to continue doing what he was doing. They gave him love. 

He wasn’t ashamed of it—most artists in any medium were like that. Artists craved feedback, adoration and interest in their work. It was his manna, and he was sure that he could subsist only on the attention in lieu of large paychecks for his performances.

But he didn’t know if he could handle being lumped into a conversation with Anna, or placed in Anna’s considerable professional shadow. Clearly, she was popular within the industry. She was a huge, bright star that wasn’t as diminished as Cassandra liked to believe. And she received quite a bit of attention because of her past. His more arrogant side couldn’t seem to deal with that thought, but he also knew it was something he had to learn to tame if he wanted to remain the “good” sort of actor. But could he really compete with an already established celebrity? Could he live under the microscope that would be created just through the simple facts of her past? They’d all be judging him based on her past—possibly negatively—because they loved _her_.

Past relationships with other people in the business had shown him that a relationship full of career intrusion made them incredibly difficult. The relationships fizzled out fast in the glare of the bright lights or blew up in his face in a flurry of camera flashes. 

But, he noted, he felt different about Anna. Maybe it _was_ because she was so unassuming outside of “work” that he felt himself drawn to her. Yeah, she had the whole sordid past, but to know her in person made him fall a little in love with her. She’d probably think he was crazy if he told her anything of the sort, but from a distance and those few times they had spoken, it was the unassuming, amazing, beautiful, sweet Anna that he truly adored.

Not once had he had this sort of attraction to another person; that strange, almost instantaneous need to know everything about her and to become everything to her. Were he going to revert back to the hopeless romantic in him, he might call it love at first sight. But as hopeful as he was, it was a good thing he also didn’t take any stock in it. Real love—that mystical, everlasting, deep, abiding love—took a lot of effort in time, commitments and mutual understanding. Didn’t it? It couldn’t just happen like this, could it?

But, he realized with a heaving sigh, even if it was love at first sight, it was clearly unrequited.

“What’s got you so star struck?” a voice asked beside his ear. His thoughts were dashed as he turned to find his sister.

“Oh,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not star struck."

Emma chuckled and looked directly in Anna’s direction. “That’s why you’re _not_ making moony eyes at Anna Celeste across the room.”

“I don’t have moony eyes,” he said.

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders. “You should go talk to her. She’s really nice. Cameron introduced us earlier—apparently her dad and Cameron have known each other for years.”

“Then that would explain why she’s here,” Tom muttered.

His sister’s eyes narrowed at him speculatively. “Huh?”

“It’s nothing, never mind me,” he said and wrapped his arms around her. “Did I tell you how amazing and perfect you were tonight, baby sister?”

“Not in the last ten minutes,” Emma laughed. “But you aren’t going to get out of it that easy.”

Tom sighed.

“Mum said you went looking for my old violin the other day,” she said. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with a world famous violinist, would it? You know, one who is amazingly nice and blonde and who is escaping, alone, out the door onto the balcony this minute?”

Tom turned in time to see a swish of silver fabric as she exited the building to the veranda of the after party venue. “I ran into her at the park. Well, no, she ran into me.”

Emma laughed and slipped her arm through his, applying the gentlest force to get him to follow her. He knew where she was headed without having to ask, and he let her pull him.

“You should get back to your adoring crowd,” Tom said. “Networking is important.”

“They can all sod off,” she replied. “I’m spending time with my brother right now.”

“But…”

She paused for the briefest of moments and shook her head. “I’ll not have you moon over her all night.”

Tom sighed. “I’m afraid that mooning is all I can do.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Do you really want her?” Emma asked.

“Well, yes, of course I do,” Tom said. “Or I wouldn’t be mooning.”

“Then where is that Hiddleston tenacity?”

Tom stopped Emma at the door that led to the veranda and looked down at her. “You’re the worst sister ever.”

“Or the best.”

“Time will tell,” he replied and stepped out into the cold British night.

Anna stood near a heat lamp that had been set up, her arms crossed over herself and gazing up at the night sky. She turned just a bit when she heard the crunch of his shoes on the pavement behind her. The right corner of her lips lifted in a ghost of a smile. She didn’t seem sad, only pensive as if thinking of fond memories.

“It’s nights like these that make me remember what I’m missing by not performing,” she mentioned offhandedly.

Tom stepped up beside her, but didn’t join her in stargazing. Instead, he looked at her. “Why _don’t_ you perform any more?”

She sighed. “It was too painful to go back to it after… well, after. I guess it was the thought of it that was too painful. I thought that by going back up on stage that people would be judging me. Judging me because of my scars. And because of…of…”

He thought she might start crying, but she didn’t.

“Because I was an idiot and allowed myself to be conned into a relationship with a man who would end up hurting me so deeply,” she said. “Who robbed me of my life. Of my livelihood. Of the ability to trust other people.”

Tom was a little surprised that right here, right now, on the balcony of the after party venue in the heart of London would be where Anna would finally fill in the blank spots of what he’d learned elsewhere.

“From what I’ve seen all night, I don’t think they look at you like an idiot,” he said. “I think the way they’re looking at you is like you’re a goddess who has triumphed over an incredible foe.”

She finally turned to look at him, her dark eyes sparkling in the bright moon. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. “But I was an idiot.”

“They don’t see it like that. What your husband did to you…” he said and let his words trail off, realizing he had said too much.

Anna pursed her bright red lips together. “Where did you find out about all that, by the way?”

“Er, Wikipedia,” he answered freely knowing he could not lie or omit information any longer. She obviously knew he’d researched; there was no purpose to continue lying, especially since he wanted her to trust him.

She sniffed and shook her head. “Whatever that article says and whatever your brain can conjure up isn’t even half of what he did to me.”

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it,” he said, “But I’m here if you want to.”

“It’s okay, I have a therapist to talk to,” she said dismissively.

Tom tried not to feel discouraged, but it was impossible with her tone. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave.”

Anna made a strangled sound in her throat and looked at him again. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? That I _do_ want you here, but that it might be too much to handle?”

“I’m not too much to handle,” he said. “I think I could be just right for you.”

“Oh, wow,” she laughed, “that was bad.”

“All my stuff isn’t gold,” he replied. “That’s why I perform what other people write. Shakespeare I most certainly am not.”

A visible shiver coursed through her body and she wrapped her arms more securely around her torso. He did the only gentlemanly thing he could do and slipped off his tuxedo coat to offer to her. To his relief, she did not shy away from him, as she had a few times in the past few weeks, when he stepped closer to place it on her shoulders. In the dimness of light, he noticed patches of shiny, scarred skin concentrated in a ball on her left shoulder that spider-webbed and extended down her arm to her elbow until the markings disappeared. He’d not noticed it all night, but the way it glinted in the silvery moonlight made him pause for a moment. However, he quickly finished his task and turned to look at her. It wouldn’t do to bring that up now. Later, maybe.

“Now you’ll get cold,” she said, looking at his bare shirtsleeves.

He waved his hand. “I’m a natural furnace.”

She smiled as she burrowed deeper into the coat which seemed to swallow her up. The pleasure he felt at seeing her relishing in the warmth of _his_ coat was oddly wonderful. Anna sighed and turned to look at him again in the lull in conversation. “Your sister was amazing tonight.”

“She was,” he replied. “When I mentioned her the other night at dinner, you didn’t say you were coming.”

“I didn’t know. Cameron invited Eddie, and Eddie had intended to take Cassandra,” she said. “But she said she had plans with you. I didn’t realize those plans would be this… and yet I haven’t seen her at all.”

Tom sucked in breath and stepped in closer to the heat lamp. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I brought my Aunt Millie instead.”

“Trouble in paradise already?” she asked with no little bit of bite in her tone.

He huffed. “There was no paradise to begin with… I never should have called her.”

Anna met his eyes. “Why not?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“And I told you not to get your hopes up with me.” Her voice was flat, unaffected, but he refused to believe that was how she actually felt about the situation. “There’s nothing wrong with going out with someone else.”

“Then why do I feel so horrible?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not my fault you have a guilty conscience.”

“I wanted to prove to you that men could be better than… well, better than what I was,” he said.

Anna nodded her head but turned away to look back out over the city. “I asked you to do something impossible, even for the most virtuous guy you could find. I wanted your attention, but refused to give anything to you in return.”

“You’re not going to turn this all around and place the blame on your shoulders like you do everything else.” The annoyance in his voice pierced the night air and it finally made her turn back to him. He reached out for her hands and took them in his own; she had tensed but relaxed and even stepped a bit closer to him. He wanted her so much closer, but he was content for now. “I was in the wrong here. I was the one that didn’t listen to my heart. I only hope you can forgive me.”

“How can I forgive you when there’s nothing to forgive?”

“Do you really mean that?”

Anna pursed her lips and raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “In the scheme of things, how can I punish you for that? It’s human nature. We had no relationship but friendly. As much as I dislike Cassie, I don’t dislike you for doing what you did. Believe me, compared to all the other terrible things that have gone on in my life, if I took offense at something as natural as the human need for sex, then I’d be living a truly miserable life… and my life has been miserable enough, thank you very much.”

Her words caught him off guard, but he liked them. It gave him hope that his moment of idiocy could be triumphed over. However, that didn’t mean it still didn’t worry him. Besides that, he felt very confused now. Was this Anna’s way of staking claim on him? What was she admitting to? Just as he opened his mouth to ask, Anna pulled her hands from his grasp and took a step back, leaving frigid air between them.

“Hey, babe, there you are,” said the voice behind him. Tom turned to find the man, presumably named Eddie, who had brought Anna tonight. He sauntered up like a regular Don Juan and draped an arm around Anna’s shoulders protectively.

Anna looked at him. “Eddie, this is Tom Hiddleston. Tom, this is my manager and business partner extraordinaire, Eduardo Castillo.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie said, offering his hand.

Tom took it and shook; his grasp was strong and the look in his dark eyes was warning. “Same here.”

“Anna didn’t say you’d met,” he replied.

“I didn’t have a chance,” Anna defended. “We met a couple weeks ago. Chris Hemsworth and his wife live in the penthouse flat above me, and Tom was over visiting them for a house warming party.”

Eddie nodded his head slowly, not removing his eyes from Tom as he assessed him closely. Tom fidgeted slightly under the perusal, like he was being weighed and measured. Actually, that was probably what was going on. Did Eddie have feelings for Anna that weren’t business related? Was it something else? Was he just protective?

“Did you need something, Eddie?” Anna finally asked in the silence.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Cameron wanted to see you one last time before we left for the evening.”

“What about?”

Eddie shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Anna’s look was one of suspicion and disbelief. “Alright, I’ll go talk to him.”

She shrugged off Tom’s coat and handed it out to him. “Thank you, Tom.”

“Any time,” he replied dumbly.

“You still have a violin at my place that you should come pick up,” she replied. 

Tom tried not to let the instantaneous and goofy smile spread his lips, but it was impossible. At least it wasn’t a rejection, not now that she was openly inviting him over in front of other people. “I’ll, uh, call you to schedule a time to pick it up.”

“Great,” she replied. “Have a good night.”

With that, she turned and floated toward the door back into the building. After watching her disappear, it took him a moment to remember that he wasn’t alone. Only the clearing of a throat made him turn around.

“I have to admit that my opinion of you right now isn’t very high,” Eddie said slowly. “Cassandra’s not enough? Now you’re moving in on Anna?”

Tom cringed. He really didn’t need this right now.

Eddie stepped a little closer to him, becoming even more serious as he continued with a low voice. “Frankly, I don’t care if you used Cassandra. She can take care of herself. But if you so much as think about using Anna or hurting her, I will end you.”

Tom held up his hands in surrender. “I have no intention to do so. Cassandra was a stupid mistake in a string of mistakes. Anna is so much more than that.”

“Regardless,” Eddie said, “remember what I said. There’d be a long line of people behind me to get their turn, too.”

Eddie squared his shoulders and brushed past him, disappearing into the crowd inside the building. Tom stood still for a moment and stared at the coat in his hands before slipping it back on his body. He caught the faintest whiff of a light, flowery perfume that had transferred to the fibers. He recognized it instantly as Anna’s scent and he was lost.

Shoring up his resolve, he too moved toward the entrance to the party, excited to pick up his violin, but also wary of the situation with Eddie and Cassandra.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all! You're awesome.
> 
> Apologies for the wait on this update. It is a longer chapter, so I hope it makes up for the wait! Have fun!

Anna woke up late the following morning, but it felt nice to have a bit of a lie in after staying out as long as she had with Eddie at the premiere. After the initial shock of being thrown back into the deep end of the pond, it started coming back to her—how to move, how to act, how to deal with acquaintances and friends and press. It wasn’t nearly as frightening as she imagined it would be, but she also knew there was still a sea between going to someone else’s premiere and taking the stage again at her own show. Last night proved that it would happen soon; as Dr. Stuart liked to point out, she was well on the road to recovery. 

The other part of the puzzle, though—the interpersonal relationship one—would take a little longer to be completely comfortable. But even with that, she didn’t think it would take as long as she expected it to take. She still found it incredibly difficult and stressful to be in the presence of other interested men, namely Tom Hiddleston, but it was becoming easier. He was a nice enough guy whom, though he made a stupid decision to sleep with Cassandra, had honest intentions. 

Her ex, on the other hand, had been all show and no substance; he was afraid of showing who he was underneath the false exterior. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but that was part of his game to hook her, reel her in and then filet and cook her. Tom, on the other hand, recognized his mistakes and apologized for them. He felt guilty. There was no pretense on his face or in his voice when he spoke to her. He was just a man who had made a stupid choice. And Anna knew how easy it was to make stupid choices.

She was the poster child for bad choices.

With that thought on her mind and after an appropriate amount of time had passed relaxing in her soft bed, she got out from under the covers and dressed in her most comfortable and least stylish fleece pullover and yoga pants. Last night’s primping and strutting had fulfilled her pretty, but wildly uncomfortable, quotient for a little while. Today was meant for comfort and relaxing.

In the kitchen, she realized she was out of cream for coffee and bread for toast, among other things, so she grabbed her purse and headed out for the supermarket. The air outside was still brisk, but it was one of those random warmer sunny days in England that everyone relished. Sunshine always made her miss home and her family, but today it made her smile as she went about her chores.

Frankly, if there was anything to be learned from this exercise of putting herself out there, it was that Dr. Stuart was worth his weight in gold. Of course, she knew that from the progress she’d made prior to last night. Last night only confirmed it.

By the time she was leaving the shop, though, the sky was beginning to darken with heavy gray clouds. The wind had picked up and blew dried brown and golden leaves across her path, promising a decent soaking to come. It wasn’t bad enough that she thought she needed to go home, but she realized had made the wrong decision after stopping at the coffee shop around the corner from her building to get a coffee to go. As she stood waiting for the baristas to make the espresso-laden mocha, she watched as the weather further darkened outside and the first heavy, plopping raindrops wet the pavement.

When she finally had the coffee in hand, it was pouring. She knew she couldn’t wait it out forever, but still grew annoyed that the weather wasn’t improving—only getting worse—and decided to leave. The rain could last minutes or hours more, and she had mountains of work to do. With a sigh, she dug the umbrella out of her purse and stepped out into the deluge.

The umbrella was fairly useless as the rain came fast and hard at an angle. She sloshed in puddles in which she could not judge the depth, but she finally made it to her building, half soaked from the feet to her knees. As she rounded the corner into the covered entry, she came up short due to a tall body leaning against the stone edifice. She blinked a few times as the body turned and she connected the fact that it was only Tom.

He was in his running clothes and soaked to the skin. She’d say he looked like a drowned rat for how scrawny and pitiful he was out here seeking shelter, but she couldn’t make herself believe that. There was something in the way the rain water was dripping off the end of his nose that made her laugh and blush at the same time. Maybe it was because, no matter how “godly” the tall, poised man could seem even at a moment like this, caught in a rainstorm he looked just as harried as everyone else.

Tom didn’t say anything as he smiled and looked down at himself with a self-deprecating shrug of his shoulders. His hands rested on the light colored shirt plastered to his chest. Anna noted, before literally having to tear her eyes away, that despite being scrawny, he was well formed. She’d noticed it last week when she had rested a hand against his chest when they’d been out jogging together; the memory made her fingers itch to touch him again.

She turned the door handle and stepped inside the lobby, closing her umbrella and wiping her feet on the mat. When she realized he hadn’t followed her, she turned to look back. “Well, are you coming in, or you just going to stay there?”

Tom obediently stepped into the lobby and shut the door. “I had intended to go bother Chris, but he seems to be out with the girls…”

“I don’t mind,” she replied. “Come on.”

She readjusted the increasingly heavy bag of groceries on her shoulder and led the way to the elevator. Once they had both sloshed into the vehicle and the doors had closed, a pregnant silence filled the small space. He didn’t say anything, and she didn’t know what to say except that not for the first time, she felt the urge to touch him.

“So,” she said as the elevator reached her floor and the doors slid back. She stepped out and moved down the hall.

“So… what?” he asked.

“Where do you live anyway?” she asked. “You’re always running in this neighborhood.”

“I’m over near Mayfair,” he replied.

Anna paused as she slid the key into the door lock. “You have acres of Hyde Park to run in between there and here… and yet you come all the way over here.”

“I like it better over here. The, er… sights… are more to my liking,” he said.

Anna chose to ignore that statement as much as she could, but it was inevitable that she would take the meaning despite his attempt to be tactful about it. 

Instead, she focused on getting Tom out of his clothes.

A hot blush flamed her face and made her forget that she was chilled from the cold wetness of the rain clinging to parts of her clothing. “Let me just put this away quickly…”

As she turned toward the kitchen, an arm shot out and a hand rested on her shoulder to stop her. The action made her pause and turn. “Huh?”

“You _do_ understand why I jog up here, right?” 

Her blushed deepened and she nodded, feeling bashful. Suddenly he was in her personal space, all body heat and wet, lean clothing-covered muscle, but it didn’t make her fearful. For a change, she looked up at him and met his blue eyes without hesitation or reserve. Instead of the cold wet, she was suddenly very warm… much like she’d felt when he’d slipped his tuxedo coat on her shoulders the night before.

The soft fabric, heated by his body, had been comforting. Like a hug. She had even contemplated what it would be like if he had instead wrapped his arms around her and held her, rather than only offering his coat.

“Anna?” his voice was questioning.

“Hmm?” she asked.

“I want to…” His low voice trailed off when he glanced at her lips and licked his own. “I just don’t… I guess what I’m trying to say…”

Somewhere deep within her, somewhere that she’d kept locked up for a very long time, suddenly and without warning burst open. His uncertainty was charming and genuine as the heady rush traveled through her body like wildfire, spurring her to action. She knew what he wanted. Hell, she even knew what _she_ wanted, which was a miracle, considering. As she peered into his eyes, she knew he wouldn’t make the first move in deference to her history.

Instead, for the first time in a very long time, she took what she wanted without questioning it or the past pain threatening to make itself known.

She stood on her toes; just enough to reach behind his neck and pull him down to her lips. He was easy to move caught in such a moment of surprise as her fingers slid across his slick, rain wet skin and buried in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His long arms wrapped around her body finally, secure, snug, and warm. Just like she had imagined.

His lips were even better, questing, moving in concert with hers as though neither of them needed air. They were strong and soft at the same time, and knew exactly what to do. They were like him: lithe, graceful, and gentlemanly at first, but as the kiss deepened, a heated, reckless abandon surfaced.

Her fingers twisted in his short curls, aching to pull him closer to her, to feel his body pressing against her. The physical contact was at once frighteningly foreign and yet amazing and so very missed. What clothes on her body that were dry were now soaked through, but it didn’t matter.

That was until his hands skated down her back and slipped ever so slightly beneath the hem of her top, searching for more contact. She gasped into his mouth when the soft pads of his fingers grazed her skin—both a mixture of physical pleasure and mental anguish—but it was enough that he stopped any forward advancement. He nipped playfully at her lips one last time and shifted back, peering down at her.

She was acutely aware, however, that it was not far enough back that he was forced to remove his hands from her body. As a matter of fact, they stayed right where they had been, finger tips pushed just under the edge of her shirt. Tantalizing and terrifying at the same time.

Though, she had to admit, it was more tantalizing than anything. He had well and truly stoked the fire within her, and the sudden emotion, realization and sensations finally sorting out in her head were nearly too much. But she didn’t freak out. She didn’t feel the familiar shortness of breath—well, other than the expected from kissing. Her chest wasn’t constricting. And she knew the world wasn’t going to end.

Actually, she wanted it to keep on spinning just so she could get to the point of seeing the man with his clothing _off_ and feel completely okay with it.

Anna then remembered the canvas bag of groceries on her arm. When she opened her mouth to speak, though, she heard a squeak of the old hardwood floors behind her, coming from the living room. She spun around with a hand on her chest to quell a rapidly beating heart, only to find both of her sisters-in-law standing, dumbfounded, in the middle of the room.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Anna asked, surprised and excited and mortified that that whole scene with Tom had played out in front of family members who clearly didn’t think there was anything wrong with letting themselves into her flat while she was away and then not announcing themselves immediately.

“Uh, surprise?” Celia shrugged her shoulders with a grin.

“We all came to visit,” Wren, the other sister-in-law, said. “We decided we were sick and tired of another Thanksgiving without you and the kids all had the week off school, so your dad loaded us all onto the jet and here we are.”

“Celebrating Thanksgiving in England?” Anna asked. “Isn’t there some kind of rule against that?”

“What? It’s not like it’s Independence Day or anything. Now _that_ would be a slap in the face.”

“Where is everyone else?” Anna asked, her groceries, wetness, the kiss, and Tom fairly forgotten for the moment.

Celia tossed her long black hair back behind her shoulder. “Gabe and Noah took the kids to the Eye… we went shopping and finished early. Your mother and father already went up to the house to get it ready.”

“No one could call to warn me?” Anna asked.

“Then it would negate the idea of the surprise,” Wren said.

“You know I don’t do surprises!” Anna exclaimed.

Wren held her hands up defensively. “You seem to be handling it well enough.”

“I know! But I have a career… things to do this week. I can’t just take off and spend time with all of you,” Anna said.

“Yes, you can,” Celia said. “Eddie said you were doing great and that you were supposed to be working with his new client this week.”

Anna sighed. “Yeah, I was.”

“Well, he said you can do your part at the mini studio at the house and send it to them,” Celia replied.

“I like how everyone and their brother has this all ‘sorted’ for me,” Anna said, feeling her temper flare. “I can still make my own choices, and in fact prefer too. I’m not the same broken thing from a few years ago.”

Wren stepped forward and reached out for her, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Anna, honey, we know. We just thought it would be fun. We haven’t seen you for two and a half years besides on Skype convos. Your brothers were anxious to see you, too. Not to mention the kids…”

Anna, feeling deflated at the aggravatingly soft spoken Wren, sighed. “I just hate everyone making these plans for me without asking.”

“We’re truly sorry,” Wren said. “But will you forgive us.”

Anna blew out another breath and centered herself. She knew she had blown up because it was all just too much excitement at once. _Way_ too much. That was when she remembered the man who was probably still standing behind her and dripping onto her floor.

“Oh! God!” Anna spun. “Tom! You can go to the bathroom and get out of those clothes. I’ll find something for you to put on and we can get those dried for you.”

Tom gave her a dubious look, but without another peep merely smiled and turned to go down the hallway. Anna watched him go before turning back to Wren and Celia. “Make yourself useful and put the groceries away. I need to go find something for him to wear.”

Both women hesitated for a moment, but they were contrite from their ill planned surprise, and did what she said. Anna, feeling frazzled but still strangely empowered, gathered her wits about her and went to her bedroom in hopes of finding something that would fit Tom’s frame. Considering she had no men’s clothing, that would mean the fuzzy purple robe Celia’s kids had sent her last year for Christmas or an old sleep shirt and a towel wrapped around his waist for a bottom.

\-----

As Tom stood in Anna’s bathroom nude, cold and wet, he had to pause and just take stock of the moment. When he had set out for his run this morning, he hadn’t planned on stopping to see her. He had hoped to give her a day or two before contacting her about his violin, just to let things simmer for a bit. The storm had come on quickly and instead of running home like he should have, he had come to the building in hopes of finding Chris—who could get him both dry clothing and a lift back to his own flat. Instead, he had found Anna.

He had not been prepared for what had happened, but he was more than glad that it did. No, glad was too paltry a word for such an occasion. He knew, without a glimmer of a doubt, that the kiss they’d just shared had been different than any other he had ever been a part of. He knew this because he’d had his fair share of animal-magnetism-pushed-against-the-wall-hot-and-heavy-makeout sessions before. He’d also had the sweet, unsure first kisses and the I-hate-you-but-I-love-you-let’s-have-makeup-sex kisses. This was a kiss—no, a moment—for which he did not have a name. It was all those things, but more. It was a promise of something else.

One thing he did know for certain, though, was that one kiss was not going to be enough. Two, five, twenty… no, not even twenty thousand would cut it.

But then he knew it wasn’t as easy as all that, no matter how he felt at the moment.

“Tom?” said the small voice on the other side of the door, accompanied by a light tap on the wood.

He poked his head out the door. Anna was standing there, biting her lower lip and blushing deeply. She was a veritable shrinking violet compared to the impressive, powerful woman he’d encountered last night.

“Here’s a towel,” she said, handing him a large, plush white towel. “And I have a robe…”

It was purple and fuzzy and would totally ruin his street cred.

“Oh, Anna, don’t make him put that hideous thing on,” said a voice from down the hall. “I have clothes from my shopping trip he can have. He’s a bit smaller than Gabe, but they’ll work.”

Tom grinned as Anna rolled her eyes and shifted her weight onto her other leg in annoyance. She turned to look at him. “When you come out, I’ll introduce you properly, but they are my sisters-in-law.”

“I look forward to it,” he replied. The black haired woman with tan skin stopped beside Anna and held out a pair of jeans and a shirt.

She smiled. “Here you go…”

Tom nodded and took the clothes. Anna nodded curtly and shut the door before the woman could say anything else. He dried and dressed hurriedly. The jeans were very large on him, but they stayed up by some precarious form of sorcery and the shirt wasn’t much better, but at least he’d be more comfortable than gallivanting around Anna’s flat, with her family there, than he would wearing the robe.

He stepped out into the hall and heard the female voices talking amongst each other, but it was muffled but for a few things.

“It’s not a big deal,” Anna remarked.

“Not a big deal? You were practically mauling each other in the hallway. That’s a huge freaking deal right now.”

Anna harrumphed and shook her head. “It’s part of my reeducation.”

“Part of her reeducation, she says,” the other woman said with a tone of incredulity. He recognized this voice as belonging to the woman with black hair as it had the smooth, purring accent of a Spanish-born speaker. “Anna, you have a naked Tom Hiddleston in your bathroom.”

“He wasn’t naked,” Anna said.

Tom grinned to himself.

“I saw his lily white ass in the mirror,” the woman said. “He was too totally naked.”

“Celia!” Anna groaned, but it was followed by a moment of silence. Tom seriously hoped they were thinking about him nude, most of all Anna. “Okay, so what if he was?”

It took everything to keep from laughing or from doing a victory dance. Things were progressing at a dangerously fast pace. He liked it, but he didn’t know if Anna was entirely prepared for it.

“We just didn’t realize you were as far along as this in your treatment,” the other woman said. “You always make it sound so horrible when we talk on the phone.”

Anna sighed. “It _is_ horrible. That hasn’t really changed much… well, I mean, it has, obviously… but I’m working on it.”

The pain in her voice killed him.

“Is this just a thing to work toward getting better?” Celia said. 

“No.” Anna’s voice was soft, just above a whisper. “Yes? I… I don’t know what this is. I like him, of course… but I haven’t even told him that. I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Tom decided it was time to make his entrance into the fray, and deliberately stepped heavily on the squeaky floorboards to announce his presence. The woman stopped speaking immediately as he entered the room.

Anna popped her head up from something she had been looking at in her hands. A small, apologizing smile spread her lips. “Where’s the wet stuff so I can throw it in the dryer?”

“I’ll go get it,” he replied.

“I’ve got it,” she said and quickly brushed past him, leaving him alone with the two other women who were spending their time eyeing him speculatively.

The black haired woman stepped forward first. “I’m Celia Celeste, married to Gabriel, Anna’s eldest brother. _My_ brother is Eddie, her manager.”

That would explain why she looked somewhat familiar to him. She had the same dark eyes and accent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you… I met Eddie last night.”

Celia shook his hand. “And how did that go?”

“It was,” Tom paused, searching for a word, “tense.”

“Well, you don’t seem any worse for the wear, so I suppose it went well enough,” Celia said with a smile and looked at the other woman. “This is Wren. She’s Noah’s wife.”

Tom shook Wren’s hand. She was nicer, and much warmer that Celia. He liked them both, but Celia just seemed more like a hard-lined business woman with her starched and pressed clothing. Very metropolitan, much like her brother had been last night. Wren, with her plain brown hair, well worn jeans and peasant top was the stereotype for hippie earth mothers everywhere.

“Alright, that’s in the dryer,” Anna announced as she appeared beside him. “Shall we sit down? How ‘bout tea or water or coffee… I…”

Tom reached to her to stop her rambling. He could see the spiral she was on, working herself up and feeling anxious. It was just like she had acted right after their violin lesson. When his hand rested on her arm, she flinched, but she ceased her talking and looked up at him with large eyes. “I’m fine, Anna. Let’s sit.”

She breathed out a deep sigh and nodded her head, ushering everyone into the main room. It was there that they both sat on the couch they had occupied a week ago, while Wren and Celia perched on the edges of the two cushioned chairs across from them. Then there was silence, except for the ticking of the small pendulum clock on the mantle over the unused fireplace.

“So,” Wren finally said, breaking the ice. “How’d you two meet?”

The blush on Anna’s face was bright. “Really, we don’t have to get into it now…”

“Why not?” Celia asked. “We’ve got time. And we can either ask now, or you can tell us all later when he meets us up at the house for a few days.”

Anna was flabbergasted. “What? He wouldn’t want to come and deal with all that madness. Besides… he’s in the middle of filming. Aren’t you, Tom?”

He would lie if he said he wasn’t a little put out at her hastiness to disallow him the opportunity to visit. He wanted to meet everyone in her life, but most of all, he wanted to spend more time with her. She clearly wasn’t ready for that level of intimacy.

When he realized she was looking at him curiously, he glanced at her. Her expression was one of surprise and something else entirely. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he did notice that her eyes had grown misty. She cleared her throat and turned away from him.

“I _am_ filming, I go back tomorrow into Thursday afternoon,” he said.

Wren smiled. “We’re not planning to leave until Sunday. Why don’t you come up for the long weekend?”

He chuckled and sighed, glancing again at Anna who now had an expression of hope. She was a mystery to him. And none of their conversations to this point had colored in the outlines of the little bit of story he knew. This conversation was causing her such turmoil, and he didn’t know why.

“I would be delighted to come up, but only if Anna wants me there.” He turned to her and phrased the question to her. “Do you want me there?”

After what felt like an excruciatingly long time, she exhaled and nodded her head. “Don’t think you have to, just because they invited you, Tom. I don’t want you to think you’re obligated.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he replied. “Do _you_ want me there?”

“I think it would be nice,” she said slowly. “Y-yes, I guess I do want you there.”

He smiled and looked at Celia and Wren. “Then I’ll be there. I’ll get the details from Anna…”

“My parents have a house up north in Derbyshire,” Anna explained. “But we’ll talk closer to Thursday.”

“Sounds good,” Tom replied. Anna gave him a small smile; while he believed that she truly did want him to visit, there was still something there that made him wonder if she really was comfortable with the decision. Like most humans, she wanted that intimacy—that friendship, connection, romance, whatever it was called—with other people, but something held her back from achieving it. Tom knew the likely cause of such an issue. He just wanted to take it all away from her. He wanted to be the person who saved her from herself.

He realized, belatedly, that Celia had asked him a question about what he was filming and tried to tear himself away from considering Anna. When he looked at the other two women, he noticed that Celia appeared to have a knowing smirk on her lips. He decided to ignore it, and instead allowed himself to be drawn into the conversation about his work.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you and thank you! Enjoy!

By the time she was in the car a few hours later, sandwiched between two talkative and somewhat annoying twin nieces, aged nine-and-a-half with a serious addiction to Justin Bieber, Anna questioned how she’d ended up in that position. Everything since she had run into Tom in front of her building had seemed to bleed together into an unstoppable blur. Actually, everything just blurred together except for that kiss. It was a moment in time in her memory that stood nearly completely still, as if she had paused a movie she was watching. That was the only thing that seemed to want to occupy her brain at the moment. It alternately made her scared out of her mind or feel so hot and bothered that she had to press her chilled fingers to her blushing cheeks to cool them.

At least Tom had made his excuses and left as soon as his running clothes were dry. It was before her brothers had returned from their outing with her nieces and nephews, so it relieved her of having to deal with _that_ confrontation. Celia and Wren were the easy ones to impress in the family; her brothers outranked even her father on the scale of protectiveness. They’d taken it personally when she had not come to them for help in getting out of her relationship with her ex-husband; no matter the amount of explaining she did about the psychology that went into her not telling anyone wouldn’t convince them of the fact that they couldn’t have stopped it—that was, at least, until they had made visual confirmation of what he’d been doing to her. They blamed themselves as much as they blamed him.

Anna sighed and leaned back in her seat, listening to the off-key singing coming from her family and the over auto-tuned pre-pubescent voice coming through the speakers in the car. Why couldn’t they have brought their children iPods or something? No one should have to be subjected to this music unless they were being tortured, if anyone could call it “music”. Sure it had some notes and it was played on the radio, but besides that, it was hard to distinguish between this so-called music and cats in a cat fight.

“Hey, girls,” Gabriel finally announced to the car, “why don’t we switch off the Bieber for a bit?”

Anna looked into the rearview mirror where her brother’s blue eyes met hers. There was a smile in them as he glanced back at the road. “Thank you,” she mouthed when he looked again.

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Aunt Anna, don’t you like Justin Bieber?” asked Mia.

Anna looked at her niece, not realizing she would have been that perceptive to the situation. She’d been in the throes of Bieber love just a minute ago. Searching for a diplomatic answer, Anna simply said, “No.”

“Daddy doesn’t either,” Katie remarked. “But PopPop took us to see Justin when he did a concert last time in Los Angeles. We got to meet him!”

“Was it fun?” Anna asked.

That sent them into a detailed retelling of the evening, the music forgotten, while she mused about what it would be like to have millions of adoring fans like this teen sensation. She had fans, but there would never come a time where she’d reach a level like that—that level where talent didn’t matter as long as she could put on an entertaining show. There just wasn’t the opportunity in her chosen genre, even if she was still performing, to have fans adoring her if she just showed up to the supermarket to buy groceries or went to Starbucks for a cup of coffee. But she had never wanted that. The idea of her daily life being a production every time she stepped outside the door didn’t appeal to her.

When such a life had been thrust upon her unwillingly because of her association with her ex, and the resulting drama that surrounded their first separation, then reunion, and eventual criminal and civil court cases, she’d hated it. It was the reason she had escaped to England. Even though they did have their fair share of paparazzi and crazy fans, they went about it differently. Her niche was small enough that the transplant to London had lowered her visibility; and because she was not a British celebrity, they didn’t much care for the mess she’d left in America.

She had a feeling her life here in England wouldn’t be quiet for much longer. Not if she mixed herself up with the likes of Tom Hiddleston. He wasn’t just some locally famous stage actor any more. He was an international star, whose status was rising daily. He had legions of militant and not-so-militant fans. It was all well deserved, but she noticed the telltale signs of having that life of spectacle in the way people approached him. He _was_ Justin Bieber, just infinitely more talented.

Anna sighed and looked out the window on the autumn countryside. She hadn’t been up to her parents’ country retreat at all since she’d moved to the UK, but she had always loved the wide open expanses of pastures and hills and trees. It was so far removed from the metropolises of New York or LA. Maybe coming up would be good for her, after all. Even though Tom would complicate matters later in the week, it would be nice to spend decent time with all of her family, even the musically challenged ones.

At least Tom still had time to back out of the invitation up to the house, for which Anna felt certain he would. She knew better than to get her hopes up that he might come up, but the simple fact that she _had_ gotten her hopes up frightened her to no end. Was she really ready for this step? A part of her felt like the kiss had just been a fluke. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to get up the courage to do something like that again, much less live through it and move on to other things.

Even now, she felt flushed, short of breath and nervous.

Anna trained her eyes on the road ahead of them, trying to drown out the voices around her. It was only a little while longer and then she could disappear into her bedroom for some time alone.

\----

Her relaxation was short lived as she had been called down to dinner with the family an hour after arriving. It had only been enough time to secure her clothing in the wardrobe, but down she went through halls and staircases to the formal dining room where the butler had set up a casual dinner for everyone on the sideboard.

The food smelled delicious and made her stomach rumble from hunger. She’d not had anything to eat today besides that coffee before it rained and then two Jammie Dodgers she’d had to con out of her nieces who were guarding the biscuits as if they were the crown jewels. For their sacrifice, she had promised to take them on a walk tomorrow through the hedge maze in the garden. Only time would tell if it was a fair trade. Anna walked straight for the food even though no one else had appeared.

But just as her hand touched a porcelain plate, the door on the other end of the room burst open and a whirlwind of nieces and nephews blew through the room, chasing each other, laughing and generally causing a ruckus. Anna breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the little people screaming at each other. It was almost too much for her to handle.

No, check that, it _was_ too much for her to handle after everything today. She let go of the plate she had begun to lift from the pile and turned abruptly, leaving the room in search of solitude. She had to get her mind under control; she refused to have a breakdown when she had been doing so well as of late. But she knew this was all too much, too fast.

Anna ducked into the library and found a fire in the hearth. She sat down in the overstuffed couch in front of it and curled her legs up beneath her. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but the fire was substantially less by the time she heard the creek of a heavy wooden door on old hinges.

“Anna, honey, are you okay?” said the soft voice across the room. She looked up as her father jostled the couch as he sat beside her.

She sighed and met his eyes. “I’m fine. I just couldn’t take the noise. I-it was too much. Today has just been too much.”

His dark eyes—the same ones he’d gifted to her—looked concerned and soft. He reached out to her and pulled her into his arms; he smelled of wool from his sweater and the expensive cologne she had always associated with him. He smelled of love and happy memories and warmth. God, she’d missed him. She hugged him close and promptly lost it. 

People never believed her that she was closest to her father, probably because he was such a ruthless businessman in a very cutthroat lifestyle, but she had always been a Daddy’s girl. They just got each other. Her mother had never lost her British aloofness and stiff upper lip, even after decades living in America. Mum had kept them all in order—bathed, well-mannered, well-dressed and presentable. Her father, the unapologetic American, was all about hugging his children and letting them make their own decisions, failing and picking themselves back up. Actually, sometimes she wished her dad had interceded _a little_ more in her life, but he was still her favorite parent.

His arms were strong and reassuring, and instead of saying anything, he just let her cry. After more time passed and she was only sniffling, she pushed back from him. “Thanks, Dad.”

His lips curled into a soft smile. He reached out to her and pushed pieces of her hair behind her ears, rubbing his thumbs beneath her eyes to brush away the tears. “Are you better?”

“A little,” she replied, leaning back on the couch.

“If it’s too much to be here, we can take you back to London,” he replied. “We just wanted to see you, and then it turned into this whole thing.”

Anna shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. It’s just been a really stressful few days.”

He nodded and stared into the fire. She could tell he wanted to say something else, but he was refraining.

“What?” she asked.

He looked at her. “Celia and Wren were talking about what they walked in on…”

Anna picked at an imaginary loose thread on the couch. “That’s not why I was crying. Well, it is, in a way, but it’s not. It’s the accumulation of everything happening today. I don’t do surprises very well anymore.”

“Honey,” he said with a laugh, “you never did surprises well. Do you remember your tenth birthday?”

Anna huffed and nodded her head. She’d expected to go to Disneyland with one friend and have an amazing time. What had actually transpired was that her parents had planned a surprise party at home for her. She had cried when everyone had yelled “Surprise" and it wasn't from joy.

“Well, now it’s even worse,” Anna replied.

He reached for her again and wrapped her in a strong, comforting hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You just do what you need to do this week. If it gets to be too much, just escape.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said.

“How about we go get some food before they take it away?”

Anna nodded and allowed her father to pull her up from the couch. Even though she hated being weak and crying at the drop of a hat, she would admit it had cleared her head. Maybe it wasn’t completely terrible, after all.

\----

When Tom made it back to his flat that afternoon, he entered the flat to two women talking excitedly with each other. It only took him a few seconds to ascertain that it was Mandy and his sister, but it seriously made him pause to consider turning back around and disappearing. He knew even before he walked into that conversation, that they would bring up last night, and Emma, by now, had probably told Mandy all about his mooning over Anna.

The last thing he wanted to discuss right now was Anna, especially after what had happened earlier and being confused yet cautiously optimistic about the future. He didn’t want to jinx it.

But in he went, dropping his iPod on the table. Both women looked up from their conversation as he turned into the room, and Emma was the first to jump up excitedly.

“Did you see the reviews yet?” she asked.

Tom shook his head. “I haven’t looked at the papers, no.”

Emma danced over to him, thrusting the paper beneath his nose. It only took reading a few lines to ascertain that it was a generally positive review. After years of anxiously awaiting for the reviews to roll in of his performances and productions, he had become quite skilled at knowing the timbre of the article before he got very far. However, as he made to turn away and fall, exhausted into a chair, he caught sight of a rather large picture of the woman he had left only a short time ago. 

It was from the premiere last night; she looked beautiful and confident again in her silver gown. However, accompanied with the picture from last night was a smaller one overlaid near the bottom of the premiere capture. It showed two people; Anna appeared to be quite annoyed but bundled up in a hat and large sunglasses, and she walked alongside a man Tom had never seen. The man was handsome with short sandy hair, a square, muscular jaw and similarly muscular physique. He was stone-faced and cold. If there was anything else he could have picked up from that picture was that there was no feeling but rage in his eyes.

He scanned the caption: _Anna Celeste with George Devlin in 2008._

It felt like the wind had been taken from his sails, and he didn’t know why. The man was gone. Disappeared, according to what the Wikipedia article had said. He wasn’t threatened by him. But even as he thought it, Tom knew that even though this man wasn’t physically there to harm anyone, Anna still felt his presence deeply. He hadn’t really considered it before, but it made more sense to him now after seeing the picture: there was _another_ man in the relationship and he wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to compete with that. 

He could offer her all the love in the world; if she couldn’t get over the pain her ex-husband had caused, it wouldn’t matter.

All in a matter of minutes, his day went from cautiously optimistic to highly unlikely. But, he had to remind himself, _she_ was the one that had kissed _him_ today. Maybe she was getting past it.

The headline read: Virtuoso Returning to the Stage?

He contemplated reading the whole article, but instead folded it up and tossed it on the table in front of him. Glancing at his sister, he gave her a bright smile. “It looks good.”

Emma grinned and sat on the couch with Mandy. “They’ve all been generally good. I’m so excited!”

“You should be,” Tom said.

Both women looked at him carefully; they were both too astute for their own good and picked up on his thoughtfulness—his detachment—immediately. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Mandy asked.

“I’m tired,” he replied.

Mandy nodded skeptically and looked at the clock. “I would be too if I was out running for three hours… and not soaked to the bone.”

Tom looked down at himself. “I stopped in at Chris’.”

“Really?” Emma asked. “I saw them at the market just a little while ago, before I popped over here. They didn’t say anything.”

He frowned. Of course she would have. “They weren’t there.”

He prayed that they would take that and move on. But he knew it was wishful thinking.

“Did you see Anna?” Mandy asked.

Tom closed his eyes and nodded his head. When he opened them again, he noted that Emma seemed to be trying to work the puzzle out in her head.

“Are you talking about Anna Celeste?” Emma asked. “From last night? The one you were mooning over?”

“The very same.”

“But the way you made it sound last night was that you’d only run into her the one time.”

“She lives in Chris and Elsa’s building,” he replied. “I’ve met her. I had a lesson with her, that’s why I needed your old violin, which was useless.”

Mandy filled in the rest. “Your brother is completely smitten with her, but she won’t budge.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “She has a bloody good reason not to.”

“And he slept with someone else in the meantime,” Mandy said.

Emma’s expression of surprise turned angry. “I can’t believe you. You’re just like every other man I have ever met.”

“No, I’m not,” he replied. “It was a mistake. Ask Anna. She understands.”

They both looked at him skeptically.

“And Cassandra and I didn’t really sleep-sleep together,” he replied. “We didn’t… god, why do I have to explain this to you? I’ve already talked with Anna about it and we’re fine.”

Both women blinked at him.

“I think,” he finished.

“You think?!” Emma asked.

“She kissed me when I was over there,” he replied.

They didn’t move.

“And I was invited up to her family’s home for a small holiday this weekend,” he added.

“That still doesn’t excuse what you did…”

“And, on top of all this,” Mandy added, “the woman he slept with was Anna’s client.”

“Alright,” Tom said, shooting up to his legs and running a hand through his hair. “That’s enough of that. I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m tired, confused and I’ve got a lot to sort out without you two badgering me about being a man.”

With that, he left two of the most important women in his life and escaped to his bedroom where he planned to fall into his bed and take a long nap in hopes that some sense could be made of this day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, my continued thanks for reading!

When Thursday finally rolled around, Tom was thankful that he could escape up north for the long weekend. After a week of shooting physically and emotionally demanding scenes, the only thing he could think about was rest and relaxation and Anna. Of course, he was tense and nervous about that as well, but she had sounded upbeat on the phone last night when she had called to give him the directions and address to her parents’ home. It gave him no little amount of hope that their little kiss on Sunday wasn’t just some fluke and that she was excited, at least in some small part, to see him.

However, his excitement was somewhat lessened when he arrived at the house—or the estate, he noted—and parked his car. He had let Anna know that he was almost there; he’d expected her to have come out to meet him, or at least send someone else so that he didn’t look like a complete idiot getting out of his tiny auto and looking up with trepidation at the huge stone façade of English stately home. Except for the birds chirping and the sound of the decorative fountain fed from the pond in the front of the house, there was no one around.

With a sigh of despondency, he gathered his things and placed the bags on his shoulders, questioning himself as to why he had accepted this invitation to come up here. He desperately wanted to spend time with Anna, but he wasn’t sure doing so under the watchful gaze of her family would be conducive to really getting to know each other. But then, it could really show more about her. He could learn more about how she interacted with her family. About where she was coming from. And most of all, he could try to mine for information on her marriage from other members of her family.

Tom walked up to the front entrance and lifted his hand to knock, but the heavy wooden door opened slowly like some old haunted house at the beginning of a horror flick. The thought didn’t settle his nerves, but finally a small body appeared in the doorway. The round, cherubic face and short black hair alerted him to the fact that this child was related, at least, to Anna’s sister-in-law Celia.

“Antonio! How many times have I told you not to go outside without me?” came a male bellow from somewhere else in the vicinity.

“But Daddy! Der’s someone here!”

He heard the sound of hard soled shoes on the cavernous marbled interior beyond the door moving closer. Finally, the man reached the door and pulled it back further than Antonio had. Tom found himself staring at someone who would give Hemsworth a run for his money in the tall and muscled department. He even had bright blue eyes and blond hair like his friend, but with naturally dark skin and was completely American in how he held himself.

The man recognized him immediately, but didn’t say as much as his posture changed from annoyed parent to concerned, severe brother. “May I help you?”

“I’m Tom,” he replied. “Anna invited me…”

The man let out a heaving sigh and stepped back from the door. He seemed completely unimpressed. “You better come in.”

“Gabriel, who’s at the door and why aren’t we letting Morton answer it? It’s Morton’s job,” came a voice from the other side of the room. It was soft, sweet and accented with a pleasant East Midlands lilt.

“It’s Anna’s boyfriend,” he replied.

“I’m not—,” Tom started, but the woman came into view and stopped him. 

“Oh, my dear Tom, please come in,” she said. “Anna’s just in the studio finishing up a spot of recording she had to do. I’m Anna’s mum, Merry. And my son, Gabriel, and grandson, Antonio.”

Tom didn’t need her confirmation of the fact that she was Anna’s mother. Except for the fact that Anna had large brown eyes where her mother had blue, and her mother’s yellow hair was half white with age, they were strikingly similar. Well, there were those differences and the fact that Merry looked starched and trussed up like she had stepped out of some garden soiree with the royals. Anna was staid in other ways, not in her dress, but there was no denying this woman shared genes with Anna.

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” she continued, taking and shaking his hand. “We’re all very glad you could come for a short holiday with us.”

Tom looked at the man standing resolute like a guard at Buckingham when he grunted in derision. Gabriel wanted to make it known that he was not as thrilled about this arrangement as his mother seemed to be.

“Aren’t we, Gabriel?” said Merry in her best motherly warning voice. Tom was an expert at figuring out motherly warning voices as he’d heard his own mother’s on more than was strictly proper, he was certain. Even at thirty-one, he heard it more often than he cared to admit.

“Yes, mum,” Gabriel replied with a dramatic roll of his eyes making him appear quite a few years younger than what had to be his late thirties, early forties.

Tom began to open his mouth to thank Merry, but stopped when a severe, suited man appeared in the foyer. Merry looked to the man. “Ah, Morton! Where have you been? Tom was standing outside for far too long.”

“I really wasn’t—,” Tom started.

“My apologies, ma’am,” he said. His tone was chastened, but his body language was anything but contrite.

“Well, show him to his room and let Anna know he’s arrived,” she instructed.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. The man walked over to him and Tom was sure he heard Morton mutter something under his breath about this estate not being ‘bloody Downton Abbey.’

Tom liked Morton’s begrudging acceptance of his duties instantly, adding a comedic level to what he imagined were often crazy requests from the feminine half of his employers. 

He was about to hand over his bag to the man when a whirlwind blew into the room and skidded to a stop in front of him. Anna, like he’d seen her that morning at the recording studio, was a ball of energy. Manic, almost.

“Hi, Tom, I’m so sorry. I was busy fixing something on the mixing board when I received your text,” she replied. “Is that all you brought?”

“Miss Anna,” said Morton, “please allow me to take it.”

Anna shook her head. “It’s alright, Ollie. I’ve got it. Thank you.”

“Anna,” Merry reproved. “It’s Morton or Mr. Morton.”

“Mum, Ollie’s known me since I was in nappies running around the house,” Anna said. “I think that means we’re family and can call each other by our given names.”

Merry sniffed. “Very well, then. Take Tom to his room. Dinner will be in an hour.”

Anna nodded her head and before Tom knew what had happened, her delicate hand clamped around his arm and tugged him to a corridor on the right. They went up a few flights of stairs. There were paintings and antiques and history in the corridors they traveled, all of which he wanted to stop and peruse, but they were moving so fast everything blurred together.

Finally they ended in a room where she pushed him inside and shut the door behind her. He made one slow revolution of the room, taking in the period furnishings and then stopping on Anna who stood in front of the door, wringing her hands and looking nervous.

“Anna…” he began, stepping toward and reaching out for her.

She closed her eyes and breathed in a calming breath. “Yes. Right. A quick rundown. My brothers are going to hate you, the kids will love you because you’re Loki, my father is way more easy-going than my mom even though he puts on a big front, and my mother _does_ think of herself as the bloody Dowager Countess of Grantham, so watch out. She’s been like this ever since my grandfather died ten years ago and left her the estate.”

“Anna, darling, just breathe for a minute,” he said with a laugh. Something had clearly worked her up, he just hoped it wasn’t his arrival that had done it.

“Also,” she said, “I’m fairly certain this—having you here—is the worst possible idea in the entire world. But I’m going to live through it. Because I have to. Because I want to. Because I like you.”

Tom chuckled at her admission. “I don’t know whether I should be worried or exulting with joy.”

Anna looked up at him, meeting his eyes and worrying her lower lip thoughtfully. She shrugged. “Maybe both?”

He closed the distance between them and didn’t allow her time to push him away as he planted a swift kiss on her lips. She moaned and held onto his shoulders, her fingers clenching fabric and sinew. Tom grinned when she kissed him back.

Anna parted from him quickly. “You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

“I’m not smug,” he replied.

“That smile on your face is smugness.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She rolled her eyes—just like her brother had earlier—and put good distance between them. It was as though she were drawing the line of appropriate behavior for the moment. He would honor it. 

For now.

“So… I didn’t expect all this?” he asked. “And you didn’t say your mother was English.”

“Does the fact that my mother is English make me, the unabashed Yank, more palatable to your English sensibilities?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” he replied in defense. “I wouldn’t care if you were American or a Martian. I simply meant…”

Anna smiled. “I’m teasing, Tom.”

“Well, in that case, yes it will make introducing you to _my_ mother easier,” he replied. “So long as you have knowledge of a proper tea.”

“We Yanks don’t just throw teas off boats anymore,” Anna said. 

Tom laughed. “Ah, it’ll put my mum’s fears to rest.”

“Like I said, though, my mom got the estate when my grandfather died,” she said. “Only girls in the family, she was the eldest. You’ll meet my aunts and their families tomorrow… they’re coming up for the day. You sure you still want to stay?”

Tom looked at her. Trepidation hadn’t exactly set in, but it was getting close. This was a lot of family, besides the fact that he was seeing any actual alone time with Anna slipping away before his very eyes. Would this be the only time he could get her alone this weekend?

“There’s just so much I don’t know about you,” he said. “Like I didn’t know you even had family in the country, much less ones that were actual British citizens.”

Anna shrugged. “They check up on me every once and awhile, but they go about their own lives up here. I don’t really see them much, and this is the first time I’ve made the trip up to the family abode since I moved to England after my divorce. But it’s the reason why I chose to move to London, because I knew the city so well from my mother.”

Tom nodded his head. The cell phone in her pocket rang; she dug it out from her pocket and looked at the screen, letting out a low grumble. 

“I have to take this,” she said. “It’s Eddie.”

“Go ahead,” he replied, looking around the room as Anna answered the call.

“What? No, I already sent it over for the hundredth time,” she said. “I don’t know why you didn’t get it. I checked the outbox… you know what? This was just a bad idea to begin with. Who the hell is running the show over there? A bunch of monkeys? I should have stayed in London to finish the recording, but noooo, you insisted that I come up here. What do you expect to do then? Bring her with you?”

Tom froze in his spot as he listened to Anna’s voice become more clipped and annoyed. He felt a bolt of fear shoot through him. He’d not exactly had a talk with Cassandra to set their relationship straight after he disinvited her from the premiere the past Saturday. And he’d been too busy since then to give her a call. Not that she’d called him, either, but it was still the principle of the matter.

“No! Of course I don’t want her here!” Anna exclaimed. “She’s an entitled brat who is just causing trouble with the recording so she can get up here to meet my dad. If you think for one minute I’m going to let my dad sign her to my label, you’re mistaken. I don’t care if—”

She stopped talking when her eyes landed on him.

“Besides, Tom’s here,” Anna added, her voice low and full of warning. 

The words stopped Eddie on the other side of the conversation. There was a minute of silence before a breath and more talking. Tom couldn’t exactly make out what he was saying, but he did hear the man pleading his case.

“Fine. Whatever. Bring her. I don’t give a damn. What’s yet another person added to this crowded house party anyway?” she said. “But I’m _not_ signing her.”

With that Anna hung up the call, shoved the phone angrily back into her pocket and dropped onto the stool at the end of the bed. He watched her breathe in and out slowly, regaining her composure. It was then that he realized—really realized—that Anna suffered from extreme anxiety and it manifested in panic attacks. Very briefly during university, when his courses were becoming more difficult and he’d had a particularly harsh instructor, he’d developed a bit of an anxiety problem himself. But it had run its course by the time the term had ended.

He just couldn’t believe he hadn’t recognized it all the other times before this when she’d been worked up and it had ended with her becoming so exasperated that she had to pull herself back to reality or she ran away scared.

Tom sat on the seat beside her and grabbed her hand. She glanced at him and offered him a weak smile. “So, Cassandra will be here for the weekend.”

“I don’t care,” he said.

“Have you talked to her at all since Saturday?” she asked.

“No,” he replied. “But I will do it when she gets here.”

Anna’s expression turned glum. “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m sure this is hardly the holiday you wanted to have.”

Tom reached up and brushed a few strands of loose hair behind her right ear. “Any holiday would be amazing as long as you’re included.”

Her chuckle was rueful. “Words like honey all the time.”

“It’s the truth.”

“How can it be the truth?” she asked. “I’m just a mess and I’m certainly not adding anything spectacular to your life.”

“I refuse to let you talk like—no, to even believe that,” he said. “Anna, you literally threw my entire life off center when you bowled me over at the park. Why can’t I make you believe that? _How_ can I make you see it? Prove it to you?”

She shook her head. “It’s not you, Tom. I know you’re in earnest; I just have trouble accepting it. My ex built me so far up on a pedestal because that was how he could weasel his way into my life. He was literally the perfect man on paper with a silver tongue, but it was all superficial to him to gain control over me. So I’m hesitant to trust again. Everyone says I’ll get there eventually; it’s going to take time, though. That’s what I’m worried about with you. That you’ll get tired of waiting around for everything to fall into place.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world,” he said.

“And if I never get to that point?” she asked. “It would be a waste of time for you.”

Tom shook his head. “ ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

Anna closed her eyes and shook her head.

“What?”

“Don’t bring out the poetry now,” she said. “I’m powerless to withstand temptation when you spout off poetry.”

He grinned. “Ah, finally, a weakness.”

She met his gaze, a curious disbelieving light in her eyes. “That’s the only weakness you’ve found in me?”

“Yes,” he said simply and resolutely, letting it hang in the air.

Anna smiled and stretched up to press her lips to his in an achingly lingering and savoring kiss. He shifted closer, letting her work the mysterious magic she held over him, but knew better than to push too far on the chance he could scare her. As he was debating on where to put his hands, the bedroom door opened wide and three children tumbled into the room in a tangled heap.

Anna didn’t startle. Instead, she huffed and shook her head.

“There you are, Aunt Anna!” one called.

“Hey, quit kicking me!” another yelled.

“I’m not kicking you!”

“Are too!”

“Remind me to lock the door next time,” Anna mused and made to stand up. “Alright you little ankle-biters. What did I say about knocking before you enter a room?”

The children disentangled themselves from each other, revealing two identical girls with brunette hair and glasses, and a boy about the same age with sandy hair and freckles across his nose.

“Sorry, Aunt Anna,” they said in a chorus. 

“Pop Pop sent us up here to get you. He said he wants to meet your boyfriend before dinner,” said one of the girls. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Anna turned to look at him as though she were surprised that he was there, but he knew the surprise came from him being called her boyfriend. She knelt down to the girl’s level. “He is my friend, who is a boy. But he’s not—.”

“Weren’t you kissing him?” said the other girl. “Mommy and Daddy…”

Tom just didn’t know where to step in, but he knew Anna was sinking fast with frustration. She diverted their attention. “Guys, his name is Tom. Say, ‘Hi, Tom’.”

“Hi, Tom,” the girls said in unison like the terrifying twins in _The Shining_. 

“I’m Katie,” said the girl on the left. “And that’s Mia. And my cousin, Johnny.”

Johnny had large eyes as he connected who was in the room with him.

“Alright, you three. Thank you for coming to get me. Go tell Pop Pop we’ll be down in a few minutes,” she said.

“Okay!” Mia exclaimed, grabbing her sister’s hand and going toward the door. When they realized Johnny wasn’t following, they stopped. “Come on, Johnny!”

Anna shook her head and looked toward the ceiling as if saying a prayer before turning back to him. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” he said. “I like kids. Kids like me.”

“The twins are Celia and Gabe’s daughters,” she explained. “And you met their brother, Antonio, downstairs. Johnny is Noah and Wren’s middle child. They have five altogether.”

“Five?”

Anna nodded. “Yeah. Ranging in age from nine months to seventeen years.”

“That’s a lot of children,” he said. “I can’t imagine…”

“It’s okay,” Anna said with a small laugh, grabbing his arm and showing him to the door. “Since there’re so many grandkids already, it sort of takes the heat off of me reproducing for a bit.”

They walked in silence down the hall, but he couldn’t help asking, “You _do_ want a family one day, though?”

She stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked up at him with surprise once again in her eyes. “How ‘bout we just get through this weekend before we start talking about kids?”

Tom’s laughter was loud and full, and completely relaxed him. “Agreed.”

With that, she nodded her head firmly and continued to show him along the corridor and down more stairs to meet the rest of her family.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whether you're an old reader or someone who just stumbled on this, I thank you for your support! You all have been wonderful. Please enjoy this one.
> 
> Warning: Talk of domestic abuse.

Anna knew this week would be a bad one from the start. Even though she had found peace, even in the midst of a crazy, loud and rambunctious family, recording had not been easy. While she had, on occasion, worked remotely for recording sessions, it had never been to this extent or in such a small studio in the basement of her parents’ country estate. Computer files were not transferring correctly to the studio in London and it had made everything about working during the week miserable.

But nothing could have ruined her week or made it more miserable than Eddie deciding to bring Cassandra up to the house to finish recording. Luckily they wouldn’t arrive until the morning, but it still didn’t set well with her. Anna knew what they were trying to do. Eddie’s plans had never been solely based on helping the girl with her demos. It had been a really long, really painful audition in which an end did not appear to be anywhere in sight.

If there was one good thing the headaches over the last few weeks had yielded, it was her involvement with Tom. Despite his momentary lapse with Cassandra, it had meant that he was under her nose more often than not. She would have completely written him off and not called him if he had not shown up with Cassandra to the studio that first day working on demos. His presence had irritated and unnerved her, but that was the type of discomfort everyone kept telling her she needed to get past, well, the past. Because Tom and the thought of him had been there in the back of her mind, chipping away at her wall of protection, it had allowed for him to gain a foothold in her life she was not prepared for.

Even now, as she sat across the dinner table from him and he held court with her family, she couldn’t believe she’d allowed the man to take up residence in her heart. Because that’s where he was; firmly, intrinsically, he had wormed his way into her life despite her better judgment. As dinner wore on, his place there only grew more and more permanent.

The kids pestered him and he bore their attention in stride with laughing acceptance. Her brothers and father were hammering him with question after question about this and that. Gabriel looked every inch the scary football quarterback as he tried to physically intimidate Tom with his sheer size. Noah deferred to Gabe, as he always did in these situations, knowing he could not intimidate Tom in such a way. As soon as anything remotely academic came up, though, Noah was right there to assert his professorial dominance.

Tom did nothing. His feathers didn’t ruffle. He merely bore their questions and actions like a seasoned pro. Her ex, with his seriously frightening need to be the center of attention, would find ways to make himself appear better than others. He belittled, at first in a passive way and then after he became comfortable, much more aggressively. It had always been a contest with the men in her life to show who could outdo the other one. While she understood a level of this was a purely masculine need for dominance, her ex-husband had taken it to the extreme. She hadn’t realized this character deficiency until it was too late.

When her family grew angry with him, it meant she didn’t see them as often. And when she didn’t see them as often, he accomplished what he had wanted by alienating her from them and making it easier for him to assert his dominance over her.

Tom didn’t show any of those markers. Even though she could see he was a little exasperated by their attention, he was the perfect gentleman. It was a cool sort of acceptance, as though he needed no reassurance of his place in the world and understood why he was being questioned. It was an alluring quality. He knew he held an important place in her life, even though she could scarcely admit it to herself yet.

When dinner had finished, everyone disbursed to do their own things. Of course, that meant her brothers followed them into the library to either continue badgering the man or to chaperone—she was unsure which. Scotch was passed around and male chest beating commenced, so she grabbed a book from the shelves and sat herself down in the furthest, darkest corner of the room to make sure they didn’t go too far with their posturing.

In the warmth of the room, beneath the throw blanket that had previously resided on the back of the couch, and with her stomach full of food, she fell asleep to the sound of their even, low talking. 

Sometime later she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, clenching and painful, bringing her out of slumber, shaking violently and then slapping her hard across the face.

Anna bolted upright, blinking her eyes and looking around the room. The book that had been on her chest fell to the ground with a resounding thump. As her gaze darted about, she realized no one was near enough to her to have hurt her. The only others in the room where the three men huddled together on the other side of the library. All three had turned their attention in her direction.

“Anna?” Gabe’s voice called. “You okay?”

She looked at him, but her eyes refused to focus. She knew it had been a dream. She’d had millions like this before. But that thought didn’t do anything to calm her or lessen the affects of it.

“Anna?” 

They were on their feet by then, rushing to her side as she fell back onto the couch.

“Anna, say something,” Gabe commanded, reaching out for her.

She shrunk back against the couch, evading his hand. “Don’t touch me. I just… I just need a second.”

“You’re scaring us,” Noah said.

“I’ll be fine,” she said in a wheezing breath.

Gabe lowered to his knees, pulling her attention to him. “Noah, go get Wren.”

“I don’t need a nurse,” she said. “I-it’s just a panic attack. I’ll be fine in a bit.”

“Let her give you a quick once over,” the eldest prodded.

Anna shook her head. “No.”

“I’ll feel better if—,” Gabe said.

“No!” she exclaimed, cutting him off. She stood up swiftly and blew by them. “I’m fine. You’re in my space and only making it worse.”

She fled the library for her room to shut them all away. She knew they meant the best, but they just didn’t understand how it all worked in her brain. How it felt like she could never get enough air or that the world seemed to be closing in around her. How she needed space and time to center herself after an attack. And how, once she got it under control, all the symptoms went away and she continued on with her life.

When she was in her room, though, she felt like a caged animal. She grabbed a blanket and threw it around her shoulders, stepping into the freezing night air on the balcony attached to her room. The cold stung her hot face and burned her lungs with each inhale, but it made her feel alive. It brought her back down to earth. Ever so slowly, she felt her body returning to its normal state.

It was some time until she heard the creek of a door on hinges to her left. Tom came from his room onto their shared balcony. Trepidation etched his face. “I wanted to see if you were okay…”

Anna sighed, not realizing that tears had welled in her eyes until they finally spilled down her cheeks. She quickly brushed them away. “I’m fine, the cold air helped. It was just a panic attack… It wasn’t even as bad as they have been. They just don’t get it.”

“They’re your brothers, Anna,” he said. “They’re worried about you. I worry about my sisters and mum all the time even though I don’t have to.”

“I know.” She pulled her blanket more tightly around her. “They try to make it better but they can’t. I have to fight it myself.”

“Have you explained to them why they can’t do anything?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I know you said the other night you don’t want to talk about these things—it’s why you have a therapist—but if you talked to them about it, then they would know what helps you instead of making it worse,” he said.

Anna played with the fringe on the end of the blanket.

“You’re right, you know,” she admitted after some time.

Tom lowered his eyes to the ground and inched his way over to her. “It’s a suggestion only.”

She turned to him as he stepped closer, suddenly needing the feel of a hard, secure body against hers. Luckily, he obliged her need and wrapped his arms securely around her body. It was truly the most comforting feeling she had felt in a long time, to be there in the protection of someone’s arms instead of battling through these emotions alone.

After awhile, she felt his lips brush across her forehead at her hairline. It was a simple and chaste moment, but nothing had ever relaxed her more after an attack. He was a solid rock in a way her family had never been. Her family tried to smother her, always freaking out and making matters worse. Tom was silent; comforting in his silence and mere physical presence in a way she had not expected.

“Tom?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She pushed back from him, meeting his eyes. “For deciding to come up this weekend.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he said.

Anna chuckled. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m sure dealing with a crazy woman and her loud, overbearing family was totally something you wanted to do on your off time.”

“You’re not crazy,” he said without missing a beat. “Anna, I can only imagine what happened. I’ve heard stories about other people who’ve been through this and I’ve read a bit on the article about you a few weeks ago. Whatever you’re feeling… however you’re recovering… that’s not crazy. It’s what’s right for you.”

Air released from her lungs at his answer, as though she had been holding her breath. Then she yawned into her hand.

“The panic attacks always wipe me out,” she said.

“I have no doubt,” he replied. “Go get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

Anna looked toward the double doors leading to her bedroom, eyeing them with apprehension. She needed sleep desperately, but didn’t want to face the monster that she feared would come back for her in the night. She chewed on her lower lip until she felt a hand on her arm.

“Yeah?” she heard herself say, looking at him.

“Don’t you want to sleep?” he asked.

Anna shook her head. “Not alone.”

In the muted light provided by the illuminated lamps inside each of their rooms flooding out on the balcony, she could see the recognition in his eyes. The want. The pure need of physical closeness with her. But then she saw something rein it in, push it aside, in deference to her needs. It made her heart ache and sing at the same time. No man, other than her male family members, had ever put her needs before theirs. 

“Are you sure that’s a wise idea?” he asked.

“I fell asleep on the couch in the library and had a nightmare,” she replied. “It’s what triggered my panic attack. I’m just a little scared to sleep right now.”

“Whatever you want, love, I’ll do,” he said.

Anna nodded and rested her hand on his chest. “You don’t have to stay the whole night if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Me, uncomfortable?” His laugh was incredulous. “Anna, I could think of nothing better.”

She chuckled despite herself and stepped back. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. You should probably do the same.”

Anna left him standing there, she was sure with no little bit of confusion. She didn’t know why she was even allowing this, but it seemed right. Every time she had ever been with him, despite her excited attraction to the man, she felt calm. She noticed nothing else but him. She wasn’t fretting over this and that. She was firmly planted in the present with him, and that eased her oftentimes frantic mind.

She found a pair of the safest pajamas she had brought with her, throwing on the tank top and sweats as quickly as possible. Tom knocked lightly on her balcony door as she finished washing her face and brushing her teeth. A wave of anxiety rolled through her body as she started over to the door, but this anxiety was different than all the rest. It was somewhat exhilarating. It made her heart skip a beat and her stomach do a funny flop.

Now she understood what Dr. Stuart was trying to tell her. How the anxiety was the same, but different. Ever so slowly, she was learning to tell the two apart and not let it consume her in negative ways.

She opened the door to find Tom in blue striped pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt, looking utterly comfortable and ready for bed. Before he could enter, she met his eyes. “I can count on you being a gentleman?”

Tom gave her a wolfish grin. “I’ll be as gentlemanly or as ill-mannered as you want me to be.”

Anna couldn’t contain her laughter, stepping back to let him into the room. As she shut the door, the awkwardness set in. Did she go to bed and invite him? Did they go together? Hell, did she even really want him here? She felt like a young girl again stealing a boy away under her parents’ noses into her bedroom at home.

“So, yeah,” she said and flicked off the main light, leaving the bedside lamp on. She decided to crawl into the turned down covers. Once she settled against the headboard, she reached up to pull out the elastic band holding her hair and let the strands drop around her shoulders. When she realized he wasn’t following, she turned to him. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Yes,” he said, “yes, I am.”

He went to the other side and slipped beneath the bedcovers. Once he was situated, leaning against the headboard, he turned to look at her with all the straight-faced seriousness he could muster. 

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve actually _slept_ with a woman in the same bed,” he replied. “I’m sorry if I seem awkward.”

“ _You_ seem awkward?” she laughed loudly and openly, easing the tension in her body. “My god, if you knew how awkward I felt.”

Tom chuckled and scooted closer to her until they were shoulder to shoulder. “Well, then we know we’re on a level playing field.”

“We’re something.” She took some lotion from the bottle beside her bed, rubbing it over her hands and arms, up to her left shoulder where she felt the raised scar tissue. For the briefest of moments, she forgot about Tom, but as she finished and glanced at him, she realized he was looking closely at the welt patchwork that extended down her arm. She was thankful he couldn’t see how it extended down her side and around her back. 

He seemed to realize he was staring and blinked rapidly, tearing his eye away from it and up to her face. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

Anna shrugged. “I’m sure you saw it with the dress I was wearing at your sister’s premiere.”

“Not very well… and only when I slipped my jacket on you,” he said. “It was dark.”

She reached over to the bedside lamp, flicking the knob into the off position to bathe the room in darkness. “It was a parting gift from my ex.”

He didn’t reply as she burrowed down into the covers and he followed her. They lay in silence for some time until he spoke, asking the question she had been waiting for. “Feel free to tell me to bugger off, but may I ask what he did to you to make that scar?”

“I tripped and fell down the stairs at our house. At the bottom of the stairs we kept a glass cabinet of trophies and awards and pictures,” she explained. Even though it had been a few years since then, she could still feel the sharpness of the pain. “It shattered when I hit it and glass went everywhere. The worst was my shoulder. A huge shard went straight down into it. Deep. The rest were smaller bits or from when I tried to get up and they dug in.”

“You tried to get up?” he asked.

“I had to try to get away,” she replied. “He was still there. Still coming for me. But I passed out from blood loss, and that’s when he left because he thought I was gone. He’d already hit me hard enough that I had fallen and hit my head on the edge of the piano stool, opening this up.” She fingered the side of her face, shivering at the remembrance. At least it was better than all out crying. It was nice not to break down explaining this stuff anymore.

Anna turned her attention to Tom, noting his expression of thinly veiled horror at her story. Everyone looked like that when she told them the grim details of that night—at least those she could remember. What they didn’t realize was that she’d lived with varying degrees of it for a long time before that. One night was nothing in comparison to the sum of all the rest. It was that sum and the toll it had taken that she still battled every day. The really sick part of it was that her ex had made her believe she had deserved it. At least, for a time he had. 

Then they’d separated the first time and she fought back. He hadn’t liked that, which led to that night.

“I’m not by nature a violent person,” he said lowly. There was anger, there, just below his even tone. “But if I ever come across this man—even if you and I don’t work out—one of us isn’t going to make it out of the meeting.”

Anna turned onto her shoulder so that she was facing him, resting a hand on his chest. She could feel the warmth of him and the subtle beat of his heart there. “Not engaging him would hurt him more. He was a selfish, terrible man who wanted all the attention for himself. If you pay him no mind, he loses.”

“How can you say that?”

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders again. “I will remember him and what he did to me every day for the rest of my life, but it gets easier and easier to forgive him every day that passes.”

Tom looked at her as though she had fifty heads. “ _Forgive_?”

“I can be angry and vengeful and fearful, or I can choose to move on,” she explained. “I lived in that toxic hell after he disappeared. I holed away at my parents’ cabin drugged on Xanax, half in a stupor. The rest of my time I spent in a bitter helplessness because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t change what happened. But I realized after some time that I could change how I looked at the future. So I moved to London to start new. I found a wonderful therapist who has been teaching me—helping me—to move on. My ex can’t hurt me any longer. If I were to stay in that terrible, angry place, I would still be giving him all of the power and I absolutely _refuse_ to do that any longer.”

Tom was silent for a long time until his body relaxed and he breathed out a long breath. “Anna, you amaze me. Your strength in this matter amazes me.”

“Sometimes I feel pretty freaking helpless,” she said. “But I’m slowly learning to live again. You being here is evidence of that. In your own way, you’re helping me to see what I can have.”

With that, the smile returned to his face. “I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“I hope you don’t either,” she said. She yawned into her hand and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and suddenly felt completely at ease with the situation. Despite what had happened in the library and recounting that night to Tom, she knew this was right. There was no other place in the world that she wanted to be tonight than right here, falling asleep in Tom’s protective arms.

However, tomorrow was another day. And she knew never to look a gift horse in the mouth.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks for your continued readership cannot be overstated! Thank you!
> 
> Enjoy!

Tom came awake suddenly, wrenched from a dream he could not recall, to a bedroom filled with daylight. He wasn’t quite sure what had disturbed him as he looked up at the ancient canopy over the bed and reached out for the person he expected to be laying beside him. When he ascertained that she was still there and still soundly asleep, he realized he didn’t care what woke him up because he was here in bed with a beautiful woman. A woman who, after they had both fallen asleep in each other’s arms, had not stirred once.

He considered that a triumph, because he felt certain that the woman in question was not new to nightmares waking her and causing her body to go into a panic attack. She talked about the occasion with resignation, and when she had alluded to the fact that she could not sleep because they would return, he knew the truth of it. So he appointed himself protector to fight off all the terrible nighttime demons that threatened her.

Of course he wished he could do the same for the waking hours, and especially do something about the man who was still walking around out there a free bird, not paying for the hell he’d imposed upon this amazing woman. In the back of his mind, he wished he’d found Anna before that one had. No one deserved what she had been through, least of all the woman he found himself rapidly falling in love with.

The body in the bed stirred beside him then. She yawned and stretched her body out like a cat beneath the covers and rolled onto her back. Her eyes were still half closed as she blinked, trying to clear them and focus on his face.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Good morning,” he replied.

Anna smiled sleepily and brushed hair out of her face. “Did you sleep okay? I didn’t get too wild and kick you, did I?”

Maybe that’s what woke him up, but since he didn’t know for certain, he merely grinned. “I slept fine. You’re the one whom I should be asking if they slept well.”

“I don’t think I’ve slept this well in a very long time,” she said. A light blush spread across her cheeks and she burrowed closer to him. 

“What?” he asked.

She giggled and shrugged. “I think I didn’t have a care in the world because I knew there was someone here who would not only _not_ hurt me, but who would protect me if needed.”

Tom’s heart swelled at the words. He felt, finally, that they were getting somewhere. His admiration of her no longer felt as unrequited as it had before. Very slowly, ever so surely, he was breaking down her protective shell. “You’ll just have to keep sleeping with me, then.”

“It could be arranged,” she remarked.

He wrapped his arms around her to pull her close, kissing her lips lightly. They lay like this for some time, falling in and out of a light sleep until there was a loud banging on the door that made both of them jump and knock their heads together.

Tom reached for his forehead, blinking rapidly and trying to orient himself with his surroundings. He noticed Anna lying back on her pillow with a hand thrown over her eyes as they squinted in the morning light coming through the windows.

“I know you’re in there, Tom!”

“Go away, Gabriel!” Anna called.

“He’s late for our run!” Gabe called back. “Tell him to be downstairs in ten minutes or else!”

He watched Anna cringe at her brother’s loud, booming voice. “I swear to God he still thinks he’s out on the field ordering his team around.”

“How long has he been retired from playing?” Tom asked with a laugh.

“Only a year, but still,” she replied.

Tom nodded his head. “I _did_ say I would go running with him.”

Anna smiled. “At least you’ll have someone up to your running abilities.”

“You did just fine when we went out together. All you have to learn is how to drive so you don’t run into any more unsuspecting pedestrians,” he replied with a laugh.

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned, fully covering her face with her hands in mock shame.

“I’m going back to my room to get ready,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded. Tom grinned and leaned down to kiss her once more before vacating the bed. Anna stopped him, though, a hand on his arm. “Don’t let him take you into the woods. There’ll be no one there to hear you yell if he threatens you.”

Tom laughed loudly at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Lovely,” she said.

He left Anna for his room, but not before giving her one parting kiss, and made quick work of changing into his running clothes and making himself look presentable. He knew he’d never hear the end of it from Gabe; the least he could do was put on a respectable face for the—hopefully—good-natured chiding he was about to receive from Anna’s most protective family member.

The large man was waiting for him where they had planned to meet in the breakfast room—where half of the family was already up and enjoying their breakfast. Many pairs of eyes went directly to him, the older ones weighing and measuring him. He knew Gabe had communicated to them what he knew. Unfortunately, they all thought the worst.

Of course it wasn’t _the worst_ , now, was it? There was nothing wrong if Anna chose to sleep with him in another capacity; doing so was her right as an adult. But he knew they were weary of him, no matter how accommodating they had been since he had arrived the previous afternoon.

“Ready, Romeo?” Gabe raised a challenging blonde brow with his words.

“Always,” Tom replied as he followed the man out onto the attached veranda that led down into the garden and the manicured fields beyond. His new friend didn’t say anything to him as they began their run, but Tom knew instantly the man was testing his athleticism—and his hubris—with the way he was running. 

Finally, Gabriel glanced over at him. “So, you slept with my sister…”

Tom rolled his eyes. “All we did was sleep, Gabriel.”

“You didn’t manipulate her into it?”

“No, of course not!” Tom said. “What do you take me for?”

Gabriel stopped mid-stride, forcing Tom to back pedal. The man bent over himself to catch his breath. He straightened his shoulders and met Tom’s eyes. “You’ll forgive me if I’m being overprotective. I’m just worried out of my mind about her.”

Tom nodded his head. “I understand your overprotectiveness. With some of the things she has alluded to, you have every right to your need to protect your family. But like she said last night to me, she has to learn to deal with this on her own and move on.”

“She said that to you?” Gabe asked, surprised.

“Yeah, why?”

Gabe harrumphed and shook his head. “She never talks to me any more. She doesn’t talk to anyone. She’s always off in her own world… and I worry so much about her. She is my baby sister, you know? I remember changing her diapers and taking her to the park and conning her into helping me throw footballs around. She was my little shadow growing up. And still she shut me out. Ever since that bastard came around, she’s been like this, and it’s tough. All I want to do is shield her from everything and she won’t let me.”

Tom’s surprise at Gabriel’s sudden outpouring of emotion couldn’t be overstated. Considering how Gabe had acted last night, he felt sure the man would never warm up to him.

“If it’s any consolation, she knows how you feel about it and she knows she’s unfairly kept all of you out of it,” Tom said.

That made Gabriel interested. “She does?”

Tom nodded. “But on the same side, she doesn’t want to talk to you about it because you smother her.”

“Someone has to do it,” Gabe said. Without another word, he began running again at a steady pace. Tom caught up with him and they jogged like this for some time around a large field until the man turned his head to speak again. “You know I was the first one there that night? That night he took off?”

“No, I didn’t,” Tom said. “She doesn’t really talk about it.”

“She had called me to come get her when that bastard came home drunk,” he said, puffing a few times before continuing. “I didn’t get there fast enough. I just didn’t think—”

“I don’t think anyone could imagine something like that,” Tom said.

Gabe shook his head. “Let me tell you, if he’d still been there when I arrived, it’d be me behind bars for killing him.”

Tom did not doubt for one minute that the man wouldn’t have made good on his word or that he had even considered it. Tom didn’t support physical violence as a way to solve problems, but in this case, he might have been able to make an exception. He could only imagine the feelings Gabriel had coming in on a scene like that, with a sister he loved so dearly in mortal peril. Had _he_ walked in on a similar scene, all rational thinking would have escaped him and he would have felt gutted at not being around to help his sister.

But that was the crux of matter. Even though Anna’s terrible physical and mental pain could not be brushed aside as equal to Gabriel’s, Tom wasn’t entirely sure she realized how it really affected the other members of her family. Particularly the man who was running beside him.

“I think the worst thing about it all was the loss of her spark,” Gabe said thoughtfully. “She had this bright, playful little spark that you could always see in her eyes, but he stripped it out of her. He stripped everything from her.”

Tom nodded.

“But,” Gabe said through more puffing, “I can see the spark coming back. It’s there, especially when she’s around you.”

A punch to his gut wouldn’t have been more effective at making him feel completely gobsmacked than that admission. Still, he understood Gabe. That spark had been burning brightly the night of his sister’s premiere. That was what had been so different about her. She’d been so _alive_ that night.

Gabe slowed as they neared the house again, coming to a stop and looking at Tom. “It’s like she has a reason for being again.”

Since arriving and the intense audition process he had been through with this man, it was a vote of confidence. But Tom looked the man square in the eyes. “I don’t think it’s me, Gabriel. It’s your sister’s fighting spirit finally showing through.”

“Except that your presence seems to make her want to fight,” Gabe said. “And for that I am thankful.”

Gabriel nodded and held out his hand to Tom as a sign of peace. Tom shook it firmly.

“You seem like a good guy, Tom,” he said. “Don’t change my opinion. Because this time I won’t hesitate to protect my sister in any way I can.”

“I don’t intend to,” Tom said.

Anna’s brother nodded again and opened his mouth to say something but stopped when the veranda doors opened again to unleash a whirling mass of children and Celia who had her arms crossed over her chest in a menacing way.

“Gabriel, take your children into town to look for a gift for Anna,” she said. “I have to meet with your father about some business.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and groaned.

“Gift for Anna?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, we’re celebrating Anna’s birthday tonight while everyone’s here,” he replied. “Didn’t Anna tell you?”

He shook his head. “Does _she_ even know?”

Gabriel shrugged and looked back toward Celia. He placed a strong hand on Tom’s shoulder. “It’s okay, honey! Tom said he’ll go with me to help corral them.”

“N—” he began to deny. One look from Gabe muted the word from forming completely.

“He needs to find something for Anna as well,” Gabriel added.

Tom shrugged and nodded his head. Tom knew who the alpha male in this situation was, and he knew when to back down. Besides, after just earning the man’s seal of tentative approval, he did not want to endanger his standing. “Fair enough.”

Gabriel grinned wickedly and moved quickly up the stairs of the veranda to his children. Tom sighed, supposing he should get cleaned up for what he was sure would be a thrilling shopping expedition.

\----

“Are you sure you want ice cream?” Tom asked as he walked down the street with two identical twins skipping along beside him, their small hands wrapped in his. He still didn’t know how he’d ended up with these two precocious girls. Antonio, their brother, was still controllable in a pram; Gabriel had disappeared with him in tow as soon as he could in the opposite direction. These whirlwinds of energy were not confined to said pram and Tom found himself exhausted. He only wished he’d had this kind of energy these days.

“I want a Cornetto!” Mia said. “McGinnis’ has them. Daddy took us there a few days ago, but don’t tell Mommy.”

Tom frowned, knowing this was a bad idea. The girls knew exactly where to go, down the town’s rustic looking main thoroughfare right up to a tiny shop that literally had every brightly colored confectionary imaginable displayed in their windows. Mia and Katie wasted no time letting go of his hands and disappearing inside.

He followed them in with no small amount of reluctance, but was overjoyed to find that the sweet shop also had a coffee bar.

The kind looking older woman behind the till smiled at him briefly before turning back to the girls and speaking in a light Irish brogue. “How are my lovely wee ones doing today?”

“Great!” the girls said in unison.

“What would you like?”

“Cornettos, please!” 

The woman found the ice creams and held them out for the girls to take. “What about you, dear?”

“I’ll have the biggest coffee you have,” he said. “Black, please.”

She grinned and moved over to the coffee bar to make him his beverage. As the cup was filling, she glanced at him. “Are you an uncle?”

“A what?” he asked.

“An uncle,” she said, nodding to the two peacefully eating girls who had found a seat in the front bay window.

“Oh, no, just a friend,” he replied.

“He’s Aunt Anna’s boyfriend!” Katie called.

Tom clenched his jaw and shook his head. He knew that was the case, and also that the girls didn’t understand the reason why it might be good to keep that bit of information quiet for awhile, especially with both of their public lives. But the woman clearly didn’t recognize him.

“Oh?” the woman said, surprised. “Anna didn’t say anything when she stopped by earlier this week with the girls.”

Tom sighed and smiled despite himself. “We are seeing each other.”

The woman chuckled pleasantly. “My son, Andrew, will be heartbroken.”

“Why?” Tom asked.

“He’s fancied her since they were kids,” she said. “He was so excited when she came into the shop because he hadn’t seen her in ages.”

As if on cue, a curtain leading to the back storage area of the shop pushed aside and a pleasant looking man stepped out as he secured an apron around his front. “Alright, Mum, that’s enough of telling the whole world our secrets.”

The man’s mother grinned. “What’s your name, m’dear?”

“Tom,” he replied. 

“Well, Tom, you best watch out,” the woman said. “My boy is a worthy challenger.”

“Mother!” he said exasperatedly. “Give the man his coffee.”

Tom exchanged coffee for money, thanking them profusely. Andrew was clearly happy to not have to continue the conversation, especially when that moment of realization dawned on him who was having a coffee in his shop.

Tom found a seat with the girls and turned his attention to the quiet street outside. This was truly a tiny little village, but it was wonderfully peaceful for a relaxing visit after spending so long in the hustle and bustle of London.

“Tom?” Katie asked after a bit. He had learned very quickly this morning that the one with ponytail was Katie. Mia had braided her hair today. He just prayed their didn’t change these things to fool him.

“Yes, Katie?”

“Do you like my aunt?” she asked innocently.

 _Oh, great,_ he thought, _now I’ll be auditioned by the children._

“Very much,” he replied.

Katie and Mia nodded happily and munched on their ice cream. Mia swallowed a bite and smacked her lips together. “You should get her jewelry for her birthday.”

“Or a puppy!” Katie chimed in.

Tom couldn’t help the loud laughter that surfaced. They were a handful, but they were also adorable. “I already found something while you were with your father in the jewelry shop.”

“Will she like it?” Mia asked.

He paused before he spoke. It sounded like someone had put the girls up to this line of questioning. “I don’t know. We’ll have to see.”

“What did you get her?” Katie asked, point blank.

“Did your aunt put you up to this?” he questioned.

“Why, I can’t believe you would ever think I could put them up to that,” said a voice behind him.

He had not noticed her blow into the store, but he was suddenly relieved to be out of the spotlight for a bit. She had her hands on her hips and tried to remain stern-looking, but the smile was in her eyes. The spark.

“Someone told me you hate surprises,” Tom said with a grin. “But you’ll just have to be surprised.”

She pouted and fell into the fourth chair at the table. Looking at her nieces, she stuck her hand into her pocket and withdrew a five pound note. “Alright you two, you did ask him for me. Go get as much as you can for this.”

The girls disappeared with sticky hands to attack the plastic cases full of candies.

“Was this a set up?” Tom asked.

“Never underestimate a Celeste woman,” she said.

Tom chuckled. “I’m quickly learning that, in more ways than one.”

Anna leaned over to him and kissed him soundly. But it only took him a minute to realize her hands were in places they had not really traveled yet, and that they were searching the pockets of his coat.

He laughed and parted from her. “I left the bag with your gift in Gabe’s hire car.”

Anna huffed and pouted again, but he kissed it away. “You really don’t like surprises, do you?”

She shook her head. “I just don’t want you to go over the top. It’s too early for that.”

“Trust me,” he said.

“I will,” she giggled.

Tom leaned back in his seat. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A mocha please,” she said. “A big one.”

After another awkward exchange with Andrew at the till, and procuring Anna’s drink, he brought it back to her. The girls were still busy surveying the sweets they planned to purchase.

“Why did you come into town?” he asked.

“They wouldn’t leave me alone about last night,” she said.

“They just want to help you.”

Anna shook her head. “No, they wanted to know about our, er, sleeping arrangements.”

Her cheeks tinged pink.

“And?”

“I told them you were fabulous,” she teased. “You have a lot to live up to.”

He did not hesitate to puff out his chest and wink at her. “If you only knew.”

She rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat. “How was your run with Gabe?”

“It was good,” he said. “I think we understand where each of us is coming from.”

“Good,” she replied simply and grew silent as she watched the street outside through the window. 

He could see she was thinking about something, but it was difficult for her to say. He didn’t have a chance to ask when the phone in her pocket chimed. She checked it.

“I have to head back to the house,” she said. “Eddie and Cassie arrived.”

“You have to work on your birthday celebration day?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It’s going to be an audition. Eddie wants me to sign her to my label.”

“Well, I’ve got to get the girls back to Gabe,” Tom said. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She stood from her seat and bent over him quickly for a goodbye kiss. He watched her, perhaps for too long, interested in the way her well tailored jeans followed the curve of her rear down her legs. It was a beautiful sight.

Tom shook his head of the cobwebs forming, and turned back to deal with the girls who were handing over their candy to be weighed.

Tom clearly saw that the price was £6.50, but Andrew accepted the money the girls had. As he moved to the till, he dug into his pocket for the rest of the money.

“I’m not going to take it,” Andrew smiled. “But a photo holding one of our boxes would be perfect.”

“Gladly,” he replied. Tom didn’t mind taking the logoed box and holding it up as the man snapped the picture. Nor did he mind if Andrew used it to gain interest in his tiny shop, within reason of course. 

He didn’t mind because he got the girl, and that’s all that mattered.

“Alright, my darlings,” Tom announced, meeting the girls at the front of the shop. “Let’s go find your father.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest thanks to everyone reading! Some of you are waiting on baited breath for reality to set in between Anna and Tom... well, hold on. It's about to get bumpy. ;-)

Anna walked into the studio that early afternoon to find exactly what she had expected. Her father and Eddie were sitting beside each other on the couch in the control booth talking lowly and nodding their heads as a backing track of her piano played and Cassandra sang into the microphone in the individual sound booth. The girl’s smooth tones, albeit slightly imperfect, skittered down her skin and made her angry that they’d started the audition without her. Didn’t she have any more say in this label? It was her label they were trying to sign her to, after all.

Celia sat on the other side of the room flipping through reams of paper. Anna knew they were contracts without even having to look at the words printed on them. A sinking feeling filled her with the realization that the decision had been all but made without her. She knew then that Cassandra’s involvement with Celeste Records—and her sublabel specifically—was going to happen whether she wanted it or not; still, she felt sick to her stomach that they had not included her in the decision. Instead, they had gone ahead and made it for her.

But then she remembered why they had done it. Since she had been pretty absent from business proceedings in the past few years, they’d had to pick up her slack. Eddie had other clients to look out for and he was her partner in the label. He was only making a prudent business decision.

However, the realization that she wanted to get back in the pool hit her fast and hard. For the first time in a very long time, she felt the need to push back and take up her position again. It terrified her, but there was just something about everything suddenly falling into place in her life that she couldn’t ignore. There was no reason for her to stay in the shadows now, especially when she disagreed so completely with their choice to sign Cassie.

And she would start by letting them all know her opinion on the young woman now struggling to hit her E6. Anna cringed and stepped fully into the room, reaching for the controls to turn the sound from her microphone and the backing track down to a lower level.

She flipped the switch to speak into the connected intercom. “Cassie, can you please take a break for a bit? I need to meet with them.”

Cassie shot her a haughty look, but removed her headphones, grabbed the water bottle that had been balancing on her music stand and exited the sound booth. “Where should I wait?”

“Go upstairs,” Anna remarked. “I’ll come find you when we’re done.”

For the first time since entering, Anna met the eyes of her surprised family members. They clearly hadn’t expected her to come in and completely halt the audition, nor had they planned for the way she had spoken to Cassandra. She waited until the girl was gone before she continued.

“Were you going to let me be a part of the decision, or were you just going to make it?” Anna crossed her arms over her chest protectively.

No one said a word for a minute, they were so surprised.

Eddie was the first to get it together. “Of course not, Anna… but you weren’t here and Bill wanted to get started.”

“You don’t like her?” her father asked, his voice genuinely interested. 

Anna shook her head. “She’s a spoiled brat. She has been a pain to work with since I first spoke to her, and she’ll be a pain to continue working with.”

“But she’s got some real talent,” her father said.

“She’s got big tits,” Anna remarked. “And a pretty face.”

Celia made a slight choking sound in her throat that could have been amusement, but she covered it well with a cough and concentrated on her paperwork.

“She’s marketable,” her father said.

“Yeah, if you can wipe off that ingratiating grin and sizable chip on her shoulder,” Anna said.

Her father seemed unimpressed with her argument. “We have image people for that. She could make all of us a lot of money.”

“And that’s all that matters?” Anna asked.

Both Eddie and her father shared looks of exasperation.

“She showed up nearly an hour late the very first time I was supposed to meet her,” Anna added. “And continued to be tardy to all other meetings. She showed up _three_ hours late to our first recording session. She has absolutely no respect for the process, for other people, or for the business. She just expects it to happen for her. And by not putting her through her paces it’s reinforcing that opinion. Everything has always been handed to her.”

Her father seemed amused as the corner of his mouth curved slightly. He leaned forward in his seat and rested his arms on his legs, looking at her closely. “Anna, you were also handed everything.”

She frowned. “Not in the same way. At least I have actual talent.”

“Notwithstanding,” her father said and sighed. “It was still a risk signing you because you were so young. We were worried people wouldn’t buy a female violinist back then. We gave you a deal because you were talented and beautiful, and the fact that you were my daughter helped as well.”

“Dad…” she started.

“Yes, we gave you all that,” he said. “But luck is what made you what you are today. We hit at the right time. Doesn’t Cassandra at least deserve that chance?”

“No! Haven’t you heard anything I said?” she asked. “If she had a better attitude, I might think differently.”

Her father sat back in his seat and shared another look with Eddie.

“We’re going to give her a shot,” her father announced. “We’ll sign her. Get her in with image people and some other producers and see what happens.”

Anna huffed and stood up, pacing for a few moments before stopping. “It’s my label. I have to sign off on it.”

“And it’s my record company!” He was truly incensed now.

Eddie, who had remained virtually speechless during this whole conversation, looked at her square in the eyes. “What’s gotten into you, anyway? You’re acting pretty spoiled yourself.”

Anna fixed her eyes on her manager. “Are you sleeping with her?”

It flew out of her mouth before Anna could stop it, but she clapped her hands over her lips to keep anything else equally as awful from spilling out. Eddie was caught off guard by the question and looked like a guppy, flapping his lips together a few times as her grasped for words to say in retort.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Anna finally said. “It would explain why you’ve been so persistent about her. Why you would call me to produce a demo for her.”

“I’m not—,” Eddie began but stopped. His anger flared in his eyes as he stepped closer to her. She was forced to take a step back. “You’re only angry because she slept with Tom before you!”

Was she? Anna didn’t feel angry about it, but Cassandra being around would cause problems with Tom. She knew that as well as anyone. But she wasn’t _actually_ angry with Tom for sleeping with someone else. She’d had no claim over the man then. That would be like saying she was angry at Tom for having had girlfriends before her.

Anna shrunk back from the Eddie’s presence so close to her. It was stifling and uncomfortable. She realized that the room had fallen silent. 

“You have absolutely no right to say—” Anna began. 

“I think I do have a right since you think my relationship with Cassandra has anything to do with a record deal,” he said, “and saw fit to make it an issue in front of your father—your boss—and my sister.”

Anna held her hands up and stepped back again, the back of her legs touching the mixing board. Her father stepped between them then, a hand on her arm and his other on Eddie’s arm. “Let’s all just take a breather for a moment. I can see it’s a volatile issue. I have heard her sing and I think she would make a fine addition to the Celeste Records family. However, in light of Anna’s opinion and working relationship with her, I do need some time to think about it. I suggest we all take some time to cool down, reconsider everyone’s point-of-view and regroup later to discuss it.”

Her father, always the consummate professional.

She rolled her eyes, but acquiesced to his suggestion.

“I need to speak with Anna alone for a bit, you two,” he said. “I’ve had conferences with you both already. It’s her turn.”

Both Celia and Eddie disappeared from the room, but not before Celia shot her a sad, sisterly look that would have apologized for the scene had it been put into words. Her father sat in the seat in front of the controls and motioned for her to sit on the couch he had vacated. He had taken higher ground for this, asserting his dominance.

“Anna,” he began slowly.

“What?” she asked with no little amount of petulance.

“I don’t know how to put it to you in any easy way, so I’m just going to be blunt about it,” he said. “If you don’t start generating revenue for the record company, then we have to drop you. I’ve pushed off the bigwigs at Universal as long as possible. They want to close down Celestial Classics and merge it with Decca’s classics label. Without you doing records and being on the road, we really don’t have a strong foundation to stand on here.”

“So you’re saying the opinion on Cassandra would change if I went back on tour?” she asked.

He shook his head. “You know what it’s like out there. You know what the industry is like these days. We’re lucky if we can sell five hundred units of a classical record. No doubt if you went back out on the road and started recording your own stuff again, we’d be comfortable with your label staying put. But Universal wants more than that. It’s not cost effective for them to maintain two big classical labels under different companies. But if I give them someone like Cassandra—someone who could bridge the gap between classical and pop easily—then we might have something.”

Anna knew the business realities. She’d been staring at them for some time in the reports Eddie sent her. “So basically what you’re saying is that if we don’t sign Cassandra, then I’m out of my record deal.”

He nodded his head. “Even if we do sign Cassandra, we have to get you back at some point. But if you don’t want to come back, I’m completely okay with that as well. You don’t have to go back out ever again. We can pack it all up and move on. I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Here it was. It was her opportunity to be completely free of the constraints and demands of a record label and of the industry that was just as much talent as it was glitz and superficiality. She could give it all up and lock herself away in her London flat for the rest of her life giving lessons to recalcitrant children who didn’t want to be there.

But she couldn’t just give it up like that. It was the longest and most significant relationship of her life. She had loved that life of performing. She loved the high stakes world of music. Of playing music for others. Of adoration. Even though she was terrified out of her mind about returning, she didn’t want to call it quits completely. She only needed to work through her issues. It seemed, though, that she wouldn’t have the luxury of deciding when she’d had enough. Instead, the record label had. She should have known it would have only been a matter of time before an ultimatum would be issued.

“I don’t want that,” Anna said in a rush of air.

He nodded his head. “I figured as much.”

“But Cassandra?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Personal issues aside, do you think she has what it takes to make it?”

“Her success will be easy for her,” Anna said. “Especially if she can juggle more than one guy at a time.”

“That smacks of bitterness, daughter,” her father said. “Tom slept with her?”

“It’s a really long story, but yes. And no, we weren’t ‘together’ at the time,” she said.

He shook his head. “That’s still not going to make it any easier for me to look him in the eyes.”

“Daddy, please don’t let it color your opinion of him,” she begged. “I really like him. And as it is becoming abundantly clear, Cassandra has a problem with keeping her legs together.”

“Not the first ingénue in my career that I’ve seen sleeping around to get ahead.” He sat back in his seat, letting out a sigh as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

“She definitely got a few heads,” Anna remarked as she stood from her seat.

Her father laughed openly. “You’re awfully plucky today.”

“Plucky? Really?”

He stood as well, making her look at him. “I’m overjoyed to see it again.”

“So am I,” she laughed.

He hugged her close, but then held her at arm’s length and looked her over. “Whatever Tom’s defaults, the effect he has had on you since he arrived is remarkable. Hopefully he’ll stick around for awhile.”

“We’ll see,” she replied.

“Let’s go up and tell them what we decided.”

She agreed and accepted his arm as they made their way upstairs to the main level. They found the other three sitting around the formal dining room table. Cassandra was filling out paperwork.

“Alright,” her father said. They looked up at them. “After speaking with Anna, and taking all things into account, I have decided that we will be signing Cassandra on an artist development deal for the length of one year, during such time Eddie will manage the public image and help develop the skills Cassandra needs as a crossover pop and classical recording artist in today’s market.”

“You mean I don’t get a record and tour deal right away?” Cassandra asked.

“It doesn’t work like that,” he replied. “You have virtually no public profile in the industry. We have to build an image and assess interest before we offer you a full recording deal.”

Anna knew that wasn’t exactly true, but she was thankful her father had taken the middle road on this issue. It would certainly make or break Cassandra to see if she had what it took to stick with it even though she wasn’t getting the immediate attention she so desperately wanted. If she didn’t bleed and sweat for her place in this industry—if she didn’t truly want it and love music—the industry would eat her up and spit her back out.

“It means we have first option for a deal when your contract is over,” he said. “We are confident you will exceed our expectations, Cassandra, but we must go through this path.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned like an unhappy child. Anna looked to her father and motioned to the girl with large eyes. He merely took his free hand and placed it over the one she had wrapped around his arm.

“It is our best offer,” her father said. 

Cassandra looked across the table at Eddie. “What do you think?”

Eddie leaned back in his seat and sighed. “I think you should take it.”

“But what if I waste a year and they don’t give me a deal?” 

“It’s the gamble you take in this business, Cassie,” he replied. “There’s also a very good chance no one else will even look at you since you’re a classical singer.”

She huffed again, clearly unhappy with the idea that people weren’t falling at her feet like she was accustomed. Instead, this would require her hard work to get a pay off in the end. The girl turned her eyes to look at Anna. There was anger there. She knew why she wasn’t getting a full contract. Anna didn’t care one bit about it.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

“Good,” Eddie said.

Anna sighed and turned to her father. “I’m going to disappear while Celia and Eddie go through her contracts.”

“Don’t go too far,” he replied. “We’ll need you to sign some things.”

“I won’t. I’m waiting for Tom to get back with Gabe and the girls,” she said with a smile, kissing his cheek and leaving them there to sort out business.

As she walked through the lower level of the house, she found Noah in the library playing chess with Thea, his and Wren’s eldest. They were trash talking through sign language at each other between moves, and when Thea checkmated his king, Noah let out a groan of annoyance. The girl laughed and punched the air in silent happiness.

She left the room before they noticed her, and upon not finding her mother, Wren or the other children, she went straight for the music room. In all the craziness of the week living with the family and working on Cassandra’s demos, she had not found much time to spend on her own. It felt odd to be left in such quiet when she knew so many people were about, but she relished it as best she could by sitting down at the grand piano and stretching her fingers before putting them on the keys.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer crashed, and I lost a good bit of this chapter that I had to rewrite, thus the delay in posting. Now I'm on a dinosaur of a computer until my new one arrives, so bear with me.
> 
> My thanks continue to go out to every reading, leaving kudos, commenting, whatever you do! It means a lot! Please enjoy this chapter! :)

The girls and Antonio were off screaming for their Uncle Eddie as soon as they entered the house, but Tom was thankful that he was officially off duty. Gabriel thanked him quickly and took the things he and kids had purchased to another room, presumably to wrap them. Tom made to go to his room to do the same thing but paused when he heard the sound of piano music coming from somewhere near him.

He didn’t need to ask who it was, even though he’d never heard her play before. Still, it was delightful and beautiful as his feet followed the strains of music into a brightly lit room. It sounded like her; well, at least what he imagined she would sound like if she were music: a strong, smooth lyrical ballad with a hint of sadness just underneath in the slower melody and minor key.

Anna must have heard him enter; her head popped up from behind the sheet music propped up on the grand piano’s music rack. She grinned and continued with the piece, but she righted herself and sat straighter now that he was in the room. He dropped his things on the couch and removed his coat, placing it over the gift so she could not see it. Not that it mattered. The gift was a small one.

He came around to watch her hands dance across the keyboard, weaving a magical spell in the fluid movements. She was, quite simply, amazing.

She finished the piece and looked up at him. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he replied dumbly. “That was beautiful.”

Anna smiled. “Thanks.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “You look engrossed.”

She scoffed at the notion and waved her hand. “Nah… come sit and play something with me.”

He had felt intimidated by her that night at his sister’s premiere. She had been a superstar then, with her confidence and beauty commanding attention in the room. But the intimidation he felt now, with those words, could not match that night. The last time, he’d merely been in awe. This time, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. Clearly this woman was in her element sitting at the piano.

He shifted his weight on his feet and looked at her for a long time as he searched for something to say.

“When I said I played piano, I didn’t mean well,” he finally said to save himself.

Anna laughed. “I don’t care what your level of ability is.”

She scooted left to the edge of piano bench and patted the slightly cushioned seat beside her. He did not object as he slid into the seat until their shoulders and thighs were touching. He looked at her.

“You’ve gotta know ‘Heart and Soul’ or something,” she said.

He chuckled. “ _That_ , I do know.”

“Good,” she said. “Let’s play it.”

“You’re serious?” he asked.

Anna laughed at him and playfully bumped his shoulder with her own. She reached for the keys and, without having to look at them, launched into the bass part of the song. When he didn’t immediately pick up the main melody, she turned to look at him expectantly.

“Come on,” she egged. “I was even nice and gave you the easier part. You don’t have to keep the rhythm going.”

Tom shook his head.

“Those long fingers have to be good for something,” she remarked.

He chuckled and leaned over to her, saying lowly into her ear, “They’re good for many _varied_ uses.”

Her face flushed, but she giggled. She didn’t miss one note or lose her rhythm. “You’ll have to show me sometime, but right now we’re playing the piano.”

Tom chuckled and lifted his right hand, looking at the ivory keys. He named each of them in his head starting with middle C, but he quickly realized that despite the fact that he did know how to play this basic song, under this immense pressure, he felt like a complete and utter dolt. Of course, she just wanted him to play. He was fairly certain that he could have butchered it miserably and she’d still be pleased. But there was a small part of him—the prideful part—that wanted to do well for her. He wanted to impress her. Whip out a full piano concerto, even though he was lucky if he could play a few Christmas carols in their entirety at family holiday gatherings.

He met her steady gaze and then looked back at the keys. He couldn’t believe he felt like a timid schoolboy again. Give him the most difficult to read and explicate Greek tragedy—in ancient Greek—any day over this.

Anna sensed his apprehension, or at least he thought she did as her free hand slowly reached in front of his body. He watched with curiosity as her delicate fingers rested on his lower right arm, sending a literal shockwave of energy throughout his body. The pads of her fingers skimmed lightly down toward his hand. Gooseflesh instantly rose on his skin. A pleasurable shiver skittered up his back as she turned his wrist so that the back of his hand lay on his leg. Her fingers slipped past the heel of his hand and into the palm, then entwined with his fingers for the briefest of moments.

He glanced up at her then, to see the blush had returned to her cheeks. She turned their hands as she moved them toward the piano keys. There, she let go of his hand. “Lay yours over mine.”

So he did that, laying his hand—which he had never considered to be particularly large or overly masculine until now—over the top of her delicate, fine boned extremity. Comparatively, he almost felt monstrous, and certainly ungainly, as he squeezed her hand slightly. She did not say anything more, but began to play with her right hand, his fingers moving with hers as the bass rhythm finally had a melody to go along with it.

It was only then, as they played the short piece of music, that he realized she was sharing something of herself. Even though she found it difficult to be verbal about her life, in playing music with her, he was learning about her. He’d known from the beginning that in music she found her strength, her solace, and her voice, but he’d not entirely understood it until now. Even with the conversations they’d had over the last few days, sitting beside her playing a silly song on the piano was more enlightening, more intimate, than anything—even sleeping with her last night—he had ever shared with another person. It was thrilling and strange all at the same time to learn how she could communicate so much with so little.

And if she did this with him, he could only imagine what she was like on stage sharing herself with an audience. It was no wonder to him why she had not returned to performing. Having him sit down beside her and play a song was tantamount to baring her soul to him. He could see how doing this in front of hundreds of people could completely wreck her fragile confidence if they did not appreciate it or responded negatively. 

She was not yet ready to bare it all to the rest of the world; those pieces of her were still mending together.

Anna hit the last note and let it fade out. He didn’t move a muscle, but she turned to look at him with a smile on her face. “Good job,” she remarked with a grin.

He couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up inside of him. “I think the ‘good job’ goes to you.”

Anna laughed. “If you like that, you should hear what I can do with a violin.”

Tom eased his posture, taking a hold of her hand between both of his, lifting it to his lips. He brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “So long as you don’t make me play with you.”

Anna sighed. “Why were you so nervous about playing?”

“You’re so…” he paused searching for a good word. It figured his loquaciousness would fail him now. “You’re so amazing and I am not. I was intimidated.”

She guffawed. “I’m not that intimidating.”

Tom reached up and lifted her chin with two fingers, her gaze meeting his. “I don’t think you realize the power you have, Anna, especially when you play music.”

“Thank you,” she said simply, her voice wavering slightly with a quiver of her lips. Her eyes became watery. To prevent her from crying, he leaned in and kissed her soundly. 

They were interrupted by creaky hinges opening a door somewhere in the room, so he looked up and around them for the intruder. Cassandra stood in the doorway, but the look on her face was not the one he might have expected. Oh, there was the expected anger. But there was also something else. Was it envy?

Anna pursed her lips together in a grimace before opening them to speak. “Yeah, Cassie?”

“They need you in the dining room,” Cassandra answered lowly.

“Oh, okay,” Anna replied. She removed herself from the bench, resting a hand on his shoulder for a minute, making him look up. Anna kissed him, hard and purposefully, as if to claim him. She disappeared out the door; he waited until Anna was gone before he stood up and moved over to Cassandra.

The girl’s eyes narrowed as he drew closer. “Do you have a minute, Cassandra?”

She blew out a derisive snort. “I don’t need a speech from you. I knew you were after Anna from the moment I met you at the coffee shop the first time.”

“Then why did you pursue me the second time?”

Cassandra’s resulting laugh was contemptuous. “Because I could. Anna wasn’t going to make a move for you, now was she?”

“You couldn’t have known that,” he said.

She shook her head. “What more is there to know than that she’s a scared woman who knows she isn’t wanted anymore and thus has to depend on the kindness of strangers and her family to get her through?”

“I think you’re wrong about that,” Tom replied dryly. He, most of all, wanted Anna more than anything else in the world. He knew the music world had to want her, too. Who wouldn’t after the way she had just played? Cassandra was vindictive and hurt. And arrogant. That was her problem.

“Regardless, I still think you and I would be better suited,” she replied. “Both of our stars rising together… we would be an unstoppable power couple.”

Tom nearly laughed in her face, but he maintained his composure. It wasn’t the first time he’d been used because of his celebrity, unfortunately. What really worried him was that it was becoming more than second nature to him now to have women do it. At least he was safe in knowing that Anna would never use him for such a purpose. “I think I’ll pass.”

Cassandra shrugged her shoulders as her lips twisted into an ingratiating smile that sickened him. “When you realize that Anna can’t give you what you want, don’t plan on calling me.”

She turned on her heels and left through the door, her nose in the air. Tom was left both confused and angry about the whole conversation. And it only made him feel worse that he had been weak enough to fall prey to someone like Cassandra. He hated people like her, and he tried to not use the word “hate” too often. She was the typical upstart ingénue overreaching for her spot at stardom. Anna, on the other hand, was grace personified, even with all of her personal issues. _She_ was the type of woman he had always wanted and yet he’d been an idiot of the first order. 

He couldn’t believe he had been so worried about what Anna would think of his piano skills just a little while ago, when _this_ was what he should have been worried about. He was entirely inadequate and brainless when it came to his love life. 

Even though Anna had clearly absolved him of any wrongdoing in the matter, at this very instant he felt lower than dirt. How could she possibly forgive him? This mistake would be haunting him for the rest of his life.

“Tom?” asked a small questioning voice. It momentarily pulled him from his turmoil.

He looked around, finding Wren standing in the doorway on the opposite side of the music room.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look so lost.”

Tom shrugged. “I’m fine. I just really made a huge mistake.”

Wren joined his side, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “We all make mistakes, Tom. Even really stupid ones that involve a conceited little bitch.”

Blindsided by Wren’s language, it took him a moment to regroup his thoughts or voice anything to her. “I did not expect that from you.”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” she said. “And she’s been nothing but trouble since she arrived.”

“She only just arrived,” Tom said.

Wren nodded her head. “Exactly.”

Tom sighed and looked toward the door Cassandra had exited. “So you know about all that?”

“It came up when Celia and I took Anna out earlier this week,” she said.

“I feel horrible about it.”

“Stop feeling horrible about it or you’re never going to be what Anna needs. You two will never work out if you keep on like this.” Wren’s words cut straight to the point. “She needs a future, not someone who dwells in the past on mistakes. She knows you’re sorry. She doesn’t care. Of course, now that you’re in a relationship or whatever this is with her, you better not do something like it…”

Tom hoped he looked appalled, because that’s how he felt at the thought of doing something like that to Anna now that they were _in a relationship or whatever this was_. He nearly laughed at that thought. Frankly, he didn’t know what “this” was. It was more than friendship, but less than a full on romantic relationship. They hadn’t even discussed that part of it.

What if she still didn’t want that? What if she _couldn’t_ make that final step into dating-and-semi-serious territory? She’d made repeated efforts to shy away from naming them as boyfriend or girlfriend. How long would she resist it? Sometimes it just felt like a lost cause when he truly thought about it.

He sighed. “I’ve got a lot of sorting out to do.”

She nodded her head. “Indeed you do.”

Two small bodies flashed by the door, but Wren was quicker than them. She reached out and latched onto the kicking, squealing boys whom she wrestled to the ground by tickling them. When they had dissolved into puddles of laughter and then sobered, she looked between them. “Where are your sisters?”

“Thea is with Daddy in the library,” Will, the six-year-old announced. “Amy was in her bedroom talking on her phone with her friends.”

Tom watched as the no-nonsense mother kicked into gear.

“I told her not to call them. Our phone bill is going to be astronomical!” Wren muttered. “Alright. Go tell your daddy that we need to start getting everyone dressed for Anna’s party.”

“Okay!” Johnny said, jumping up and holding his hand out for his younger brother.

They were gone in an instant and Wren turned back to look at him. “You should probably go get ready, too. You know, prepare yourself to be bombarded with even more crazy family shenanigans.”

“What are we wearing to this party?” he asked.

“Smart casual,” she replied. “But with this lot, just make sure you’re wearing clean clothes and you’ll be golden.”

With a wink, she left him standing there to attend to her large family. Tom watched her go and sighed heavily. He grabbed his coat and gift from the couch that he had set them on. Hopefully he could find Gabriel and get the gift wrapped before everyone arrived.

\-----

“So, I’m sorry about earlier,” Anna said softly as she signed the last document Celia slid in front of her. As she crossed the “t” in her name with a flourish, she looked across the table at Eddie.

Eddie nodded his head. “I accept the apology, and I’m sorry for what I said as well.”

Anna handed Celia the document. Her sister-in-law thanked her and dropped it into a file folder. “I’m just going to step out and go find my children. Lord knows Gabe hasn’t been keeping an eye on them.”

Celia disappeared out the door, leaving Anna alone with her father and Eddie. After a suitable amount of silence and the three of them sitting and staring at each other, Eddie opened his mouth. “So, I got a call this week.”

“About?” she asked. His tone of voice portended something bad, so she steeled herself to that inevitability.

“A show,” he replied. “I know you’re not ready to retu—.”

She interrupted him by raising a hand. “What is it?” 

Eddie was surprised by her response. Honestly, so was she. Even if her father had not a few hours before described to her the dire straits in which her career found itself, she still couldn’t believe she was even willing to consider hearing about whatever concert they could dream up. Dr. Stuart had said to take things slow. Yet again, it felt like everything was hurdling at her at the speed of a bullet train.

“The London Phil was contracted to do a charity gala performance for Women’s Aid on December 8th,” he explained. “The violinist they had scheduled cancelled and they saw the articles from you going to the premiere last weekend and thought you might be starting back at it.”

Anna blew out a long breath through nearly closed lips. She understood why they had specifically called for her. After all, what other prominent female violinist had a history colored with reports of domestic violence? She could be their unofficial poster girl—triumphing over the past and continuing to lead a spectacular life. All the while she was dying a little bit on the inside having to endure a performance.

Her kneejerk reaction was to decline, but something stopped her from saying no this time. All the other appearances Eddie had brought to her over the course of the last two years were not for a great cause like this. This one meant more money which equated into more help for women and children suffering through the same hell she had barely survived. There was no concert more perfect for her than this one. She wondered how long Eddie had been sitting on it. Was this one he was preparing to ask her about a few weeks ago when he had first called about Cassandra?

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

The level of surprise at her acceptance coming from both men astonished her. Why were they surprised? They wouldn’t have brought it up if they didn’t think it was a good bet. She’d bitten both their heads off in the past when they had suggested doing a show; they knew not to bring anything up to her that wasn’t worth it.

“You’re serious?” Eddie asked.

Anna nodded. “Yes. What am I performing?”

“The conductor said they will create a program to fit you since you’re so close to the show,” he explained. “He recommended your Sibelius or Mendelssohn. He also thought you might be willing to do a piano piece in the first half.”

“Just violin,” she replied. “Let me ease back into it, okay?”

“Fair enough.” Eddie pulled out his smartphone and started scrolling through something. “But you’re sure about this? All the pressures? All the pomp and circumstance?”

Anna shrugged. “I’m never going to find a more forgiving audience for my return to the stage than people who are there specifically to support a domestic violence awareness group.”

“True,” Eddie said.

Anna turned to look at her father when he placed a hand on her arm. “Anna, honey, you don’t have to jump _right_ back into this. Even with what I said downstairs, I didn’t mean right away. We still have some time if you need it.”

“No,” she said resolutely. “I’m never going to do it if I keep putting it off.”

“But it would be worse if you get up to the day of the show and you have to cancel because you won’t go out on stage,” her father said.

Anna shook her head. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll do it.”

“Then we have to get you into a photo shoot for updated press images,” Eddie explained. “And you’ll have to do a publicity shoot with the orchestra as well for the program. And if you feel up to it, would you be willing to do an interview? If we’re bringing you back, we need to do it right.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She held up her hand, taking a few deep breaths. This was a lot to think about, and she still hadn’t wrapped her mind around the fact that she had agreed to perform again. In front of hundreds of people. In a concert hall. “Slow down.”

“Anna…” Eddie started, but stopped. 

“I will do those things, but don’t go crazy,” she said. “I don’t know how I can stress it enough that I can’t be bombarded with tons of stuff all at once, and I’m going to need ample space for this.”

“I got it,” Eddie said. “I won’t schedule anything else except consultations with your stylist and hair and makeup.”

Anna closed her eyes. She knew she had to get stage-ready, but she hadn’t thought about the fact that it would include a bevy of stylists. 

“Just schedule it for me,” she said. “And I’ll change the lessons I have around that. Okay?”

Eddie nodded, already engrossed with his phone, typing a message to someone. Anna guessed it was either his assistant back in New York, or it was her publicist. Maybe both.

“Alright, I’m leaving now before you convince me to do anything else.” Anna got up from her seat and glanced at her father when she received no reply from a hardworking Eddie. “I’m going upstairs to rest before the party tonight.”

She left the dining room for her bedroom, glad that the meeting was over with, but no less anxious. Anna knew she had to do this, just to prove to herself that she could, but she could already feel the tightness in her chest and the cramping of her belly. It was two weeks. Fourteen days. Two sessions with Dr. Stuart. It was an age! She could work up to it. 

She had to, because there was no other option now.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to everyone reading! Here's a longer chapter for you. Enjoy!

Anna sighed as the last car crunched out of the gravel drive onto the paved street, placing her hands on her hips and nodding her head with a feeling of a job well done. They were all lovely people, of course, but saying farewell to them had been just as nice.

Freezing wind whipped around her body as she stood watching the red tail lights diminish into the distance. To combat the chill, she crossed her arms over herself and ran her hands down the bare skin, hoping they would warm. When it didn’t work, she gave up and turned around to go back into the house.

Tom stood in the doorway, lounging against the jamb, looking wonderful in the navy colored suit he’d chosen to wear for the evening. It had been a little too smart for her country family, but she had appreciated it. 

Well, she appreciated the way he filled out the finely tailored cloth, at least. 

The way he rested there, watching her climb the steps, told her all she needed to know about him. He was completely content with who and what he was. She wished she had even a smidgeon of his self-assurance, but it was one of his most alluring qualities.

However, she had noticed that he’d been quiet tonight at dinner. Since the moment she’d met him, he’d been bursting with talkativeness and energy. He loved being with people and having fun. He relished his extroversion. Tonight, he had only answered questions when they had been specifically addressed to him, and had joined in only sparingly to the other conversation. It hadn’t lessened his attentiveness to her at all; more or less, it had increased it, but he seemed broody in a way she had not come to expect from him.

What had changed in the time between the amazing few minutes they had shared at the piano and her going down to dinner?

As she stepped up on the landing, he straightened to his full height. “Are you okay?” she heard herself asking.

“I’m wonderful,” he asked. “Why?”

She shrugged. “You seemed withdrawn tonight.”

His lips stretched into a slow smile. “I’m fine, darling. I’ve only got some things on my mind.”

“If you say so,” she replied, allowing him to wrap an arm around her as they stepped inside the house.

“I was thinking,” he said, “that since everyone left so early, you might be willing to go on a real date with me. We can drive into town and go to the pub across the way from the sweet shop.”

Anna looked at him, trying to read his face. She knew that wasn’t the only thing on his mind, but she nodded her head anyway. “That sounds great. I’ve had enough family togetherness to last me a lifetime… let me go get my jacket and we can go.”

He nodded his head and she was off to grab her things. When she came back down the stairs, he was standing at the bottom and gazing off in the distance, twirling his key ring around a finger.

“Thank god you’re driving,” she remarked as she stepped up beside him.

Tom chuckled. “Speaking of which, I figure I should give you my gift now.”

Anna’s brow rose in question. “What did you get me?”

He reached into his jacket and withdrew a rectangular package, wrapped in shiny paper like that of her other presents during the evening. She peeled the paper back and let out a laugh, smacking him playfully with the book now in her hands.

“ _The Official Driving Manual of the United Kingdom_.” She read the words again. “Haha, very funny.”

Tom’s eyes were bright with mirth when she looked up at him. “Well, you were saying that you didn’t know how to drive here, and I thought I wouldn’t like it if you accidentally ran into some other chap on a deserted park path, so this was a perfect gift.”

“Thank you,” she laughed, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Are you going to give me driving lessons now?”

“We can discuss that some other time,” he said. “I’m not so sure I can handle the stress.”

Anna wrapped her arm around his waist and placed the booklet on the side table beside them. “Let’s get going. I _do_ turn into a pumpkin at midnight.”

“Then let’s get going, Cinderella.”

\----

Anna released the air from her lungs as she relaxed back into the relatively comfy bar stool at the George and Dragon. It was just like any other pub she had visited, if a little more worn down than some of the touristy ones found in London. This place had years of history pinned to the walls in the form of footie jerseys and banners and bric-a-brac from the owner’s travels. She had loved coming in here as a kid with her grandfather—who had frequented the establishment daily when he was still alive—and then after her eighteenth birthday whenever she was on holiday. It felt like home, cozy and warm, and reminded her of happier times. 

She watched Tom as he folded himself up and slipped into the seat beside her, adjusting his suit coat for comfort before turning to face her. The publican appeared in front of them, grinning wide.

“It’s been a long time, Anna,” he said.

She smiled. “It’s wonderful to see you, Harry.”

“What can I get for you?” he asked, reached for a pint glass. “You were a Guinness girl, like Old Blackie, weren’t you?”

“Not this time,” she replied. “Just ginger ale for me, please.”

He gave her a dubious look. “Your grandfather would be mortified.”

Anna laughed lightly as he turned to Tom.

“Oh, last I heard, you were getting married!” he exclaimed. “This must be your husband...”

If it was possible to choke on one’s own spit, she nearly accomplished it with a swift intake of air and a spluttering cough. Tom wasn’t helping to correct the man, either. “Ah, no, this is Tom. I am divorced as of two years ago.”

Tom finally held out his hand, shook Harry’s, and then shot her a wide grin.

“I’m sorry about all that, I hadn’t heard. You lot haven’t been up here in so long.” His voice made it sound as though he were truly hurt that none of her family had been to see him before this trip.

Anna shrugged. “It’s alright, Harry.”

Harry nodded and recovered by asking Tom for his order, and went about fixing the drinks. Tom turned more toward her, jockeying for a comfortable position with her knees between his long legs. Folded into the seat, she thought he looked somewhat like a praying mantis, even if an incredibly attractive one. At least in their current position, he could stretch his legs out a bit and rest his feet on the lower frame of her barstool.

“What?” he asked.

“You look like a praying mantis,” she replied. “You’re all legs and arms.”

Tom let out a loud laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, actually.”

She giggled. “At least you’re a handsome mantis.”

She was surprised when a light blush bloomed in his cheeks and he ducked his head in embarrassment. Harry slid their drinks in front of them then, diverting their attention for just a minute before he went back to his other customers.

The ginger ale tasted sweet and bubbly as she sucked it through the small red straw. When she turned back to look at Tom, she realized he was watching her intently.

“You don’t drink?” he asked.

Anna shrugged. “Not really. I was never a big drinker. Champagne at fancy events, however, is another story. It’s a good thing the parties always happened _after_ the concerts I played in, or it would have been a sorry sight.”

Tom laughed and inched a bit closer to the edge of his seat. Close enough that her knees were firmly and immovably sandwiched between his thighs, keeping her in place. For a brief moment, she felt a scary rush of anxiety sweep over her at being boxed in, but then she realized it was just her lust for the attractive man now making it very warm in the room. She wished she had taken off her jacket before sitting down.

“So how did your talk with Cassandra go?” she asked. She hoped it sounded conversational, but she would have been lying if she had said she wasn’t a little put out by the whole situation and wanted to know every detail. Most of it had to do with the girl herself, not Tom, but she unfortunately recognized the fact that she had indeed been jealous that Tom and Cassandra had slept together.

And yet, it had also forced her to take action toward what she truly wanted. So though Cassandra was quite a large pebble in her shoe, Anna couldn’t completely hate her. She was a part of the catalyst for getting her to fight for a change.

Tom swallowed a big gulp of his vodka and tonic. He placed the glass back on the napkin on the bar; the fact that he didn’t immediately reply told her what she needed to know, but he did eventually find his words. “I’m just going to say that I still feel terrible about what happened. We’re all squared away, though.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I, er, feel like you can’t move on from it.”

He seemed bashful. “I’m just coming to terms with my own failure. The hardest part is forgiving myself.”

“It always is,” she replied.

“I just... from the moment I met you I’ve felt drawn to you,” he replied. “Maybe I thought by being with her, I would get closer to you. I just don’t know.”

“Wow,” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “Talk about Man Logic.”

Tom nodded. “It’s a mess, I know.”

Anna shrugged. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

Tom’s gaze flew to hers in a stunned hush. “I can’t believe you’re even suggesting that this had to happen...”

“Look, Tom, I’m pretty fucked up,” she said. “There’s no way around that. I was never going to make that leap of faith again if there wasn’t a man I was interested in that came with a little competition attached. I’m very competitive, even at my weakest.”

“You mean you just had to feel a little competition and I wouldn’t have had to make such terrible decisions?” he asked.

“Something like that,” she said.

Tom laughed and grabbed her right hand, squeezing it, and holding her gaze in earnest. “Anna, promise me that the next time you need to feel competitive that you’ll go look at the Internet and see all the news articles about who I’m apparently dating. Okay? It saves me the torment of fucking up.”

Anna bit her lip as she thought over his words. She hadn’t even thought about all that. After a moment, she reached up to push back a piece of hair behind an ear. “Oh, lord, I’m not sure I could handle that.”

“Any woman I’m seen with is suddenly my new girlfriend,” he replied, waving his hand dismissively. “Just so you are aware of that fact. I don’t sleep around. I prefer relationships—long ones. So if anything is said or written about me after this weekend with any woman other than yourself, it’s a lie. You have to trust me that I won’t ever do anything like that to you, but I’m worried that you won’t ever be able to trust me after what I did.”

He was right, of course. She had enough trust issues as it was, but heaping all of this on top of it didn’t make matters easier. However, Tom was a naturally trustworthy person. He was earnest and straightforward, even when he made a mistake. He didn’t try to hide anything. But she knew well enough from experience that actions spoke louder than words. What if he wasn’t to be trusted, after all?

She very hastily and harshly pushed the thought to the furthest reaches of her brain. She would never find love with this logic; all men would be suspect.

“Sometimes you just have to say ‘fuck it’ and take a giant swan dive off the cliff into trusting someone,” she replied. “If there’s ever someone else, just tell me before you do anything. Be honest with me.”

He nodded his head in affirmation.

A few moments later, she let out a small laugh.

“What?” he asked.

“I feel like we each need legal disclaimers.”

Tom’s chuckle was self-deprecating. “The very nature of our professions comes with one already built in.”

“True,” she mused, running the index finer of her free hand along the rim of her glass.

A long silence fell between them as they each drank from their glasses and looked around the bar. She knew he wanted to say something. He’d been wanting to say it all night, but that strange quietness of his was back in full force.

But it didn’t last forever. He cleared his throat and turned his vibrant blue eyes to her. “Where does this leave us then?”

“Us?” she asked.

“With Cassandra... with your career... my career...” he said. “Honestly, I don’t even know how to classify us right now.”

Anna bowed her head and picked imaginary lint off her black dress.

“You’ve done everything _but_ label me as your boyfriend,” he pointed out.

“I didn’t think it had to be said to make it so,” she replied softly. “I let you sleep with me last night. I thought that was enough confirmation of how I felt.”

“I can be fairly blockheaded at times. I need it spelled out,” he replied.

Anna chuckled. “B-o-y-f-r-i-e-n-d. Does that work for you? Or how about Manfriend? M-a-n—.”

He cut her off with a crushing kiss, his hands on her cheeks before sliding back a bit to entwine in her hair. When she could no longer breathe, he pulled back and grinned. “That’s confirmation enough.”

Anna struggled to see straight, but as the world stopped spinning and she looked around, she noticed many curious eyes. He had kissed her in front of half the town. They were public now. Granted, this wasn’t some premiere or event that paparazzi would be swarming, but it was no longer a secret. She understood his point. Now that others outside her family and Andrew McGinnis at the sweet shop knew about it, there was no going back.

When she had fully recovered, she downed the rest of her ginger ale. The cold liquid felt good hitting the back of her throat and traveling down to her belly. But it didn’t do a very good job of cooling the rest of her overheated body.

“You didn’t say how your own meeting with Cassandra went,” he said conversationally.

“She’s going to be around a lot more, unfortunately. She is now sleeping with Eddie and we just signed her to a development deal on my label.”

“But I thought you weren’t going to sign her,” he said, the other part about Eddie dismissed.

“I was forced to do it,” she said, and when he opened his mouth to tell her she should have stood her ground, she reached out and placed her fingers on his lips to stop him. “Let me finish before you say anything.”

He silenced. 

“It’s a lot of technical business stuff, but long story short is that it all has to happen this way or I lose my label and my recording contract. They’re also forcing me back out on the road.”

Tom frowned and interjected before she could finish explaining herself. “Anna... don’t do it if you don’t want to do it. I’m sure there are other options. Doing it because you _have to_ isn’t the right mindset to make it work.”

She pursed her lips before responding. “All I know is how I feel, and I feel like I absolutely _can’t_ keep doing lessons for kids. I feel like I’m spinning my wheels and not going anywhere. Despite the whole anxiety issue, I’ve really hit a wall professionally and I can’t take it anymore. I’m supposed to be up on the stage sharing my music with people. I need and crave that high. It’s also another part of that competition thing. It’s the drive to be something... _more_. I’m sure you know what it’s like... you’ve got to have this yearning to perform and create.”

He was silent for a long time, drawing one of his fingers across his lower lip in thought. “I do know exactly how you feel, but you should have some say. You shouldn’t compromise what you want for some financial bottom line.”

Of course he would see straight through her words to the heart of the issue. Record companies and the industry in general dealt in units sold and money made on tours, not in personal, caring attention to their artists. What she said about the drive to go back was true, but she was also a pragmatist, so she was going to make it happen for her business and financial security as well.

“It’s time for me to go back,” she replied. “Trust me on this.”

There it was again. Trust. He seemed to realize the give and take now.

And as an aside, she said, “So I’m filling in for someone at a charity concert in two weeks.”

“I’m sure you will do amazingly.”

Anna felt a blush enflame her cheeks again. For some reason, knowing he had confidence in her meant quite a bit. “I’ll start small at first, and then build up to a full tour.”

“What does a full tour look like?”

She smiled at the sound of cautious interest in his voice. He wanted to know about it, but he didn’t. And she had a fair idea why, because it had also crossed her mind a few times since her meeting with her father this afternoon. If he was off filming movies all over the world, and she was jet setting across the world each week between September and May, how would they ever find time to be together?

“It changes all the time,” she said, “but the months I schedule for holidays are June and July and a few weeks over Christmas and New Years. During the concert season, I usually fly out in the beginning of the week, rehearse all week with the orchestra I will guest with and then perform with them on the weekends. Then if I do a solo recital tour... that’s different.”

She could see his smile fading little by little as she continued to explain her touring life.

“Is this your first time dating a touring musician?” she asked.

He nodded.

Anna reached for his right hand, grabbing it and holding onto it until he looked at her. “Tom, none of this is going to happen right away. I won’t be doing this until next season at the earliest, and even then I’m going to take it slow. My priority right now is still fully recovering, but Dr. Stuart thinks that I’ll be able to manage it.”

“Dr. Stuart?” he asked.

“My therapist,” she remarked offhandedly, but he seemed inordinately interested in it. “But it’ll work out if we want it to work out.”

“You say it like you’ve dated actors before,” he replied. “Like you know how it is with fans and the not seeing each other and all that.”

“I have,” she said.

“Who?”

“Does it matter?”

He stared blankly at her.

“I can’t tell if you’re jealous or feeling protective,” she replied. “Or something else.”

“I guess I just question why people would purposely date others in show business instead of trying to find some normal person. I mean, I know we’re both in show business,” he said, “but it can be a huge mess if ego and competition are in the way.”

“It _can_ be if both parties can’t handle it,” she replied. “It takes two strong people who purposely take the required time to make it work.”

Finally, with the aid of a liquor-loosened tongue, he was beginning to voice his concerns and more about his own history. Anna was alternately glad to learn more about him, but scared at the same time. She had always known, academically, the man would come with his own baggage and insecurities. He’d spent so much time trying to get her to crack, he hadn’t divulged much of himself. 

Clearly this was one major issue for him.

“Tom, I don’t want to be in competition with you or use you for your celebrity or anything like that,” she explained. “I don’t want to be someone who has cameras shoved in her face from the minute I step outside my door in the morning to when I fall asleep at night. I have absolutely no problem stepping back and letting you be the celebrity.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “Honestly, I abhor all that stuff. I love my fans, but the cameras in my face all the time can get old. I guess I just worry that with who we are, and what has happened in both of our pasts, that we’re just asking for a lot of intrusion. And that wears on the relationship after awhile. My last girlfriend... one of the main reasons we broke up was because she couldn’t handle the speculation and intrusion. She was an actress as well. She wasn’t using me, but others insinuated that she was. She couldn’t handle it.”

Anna listened to him intently. When he was finished, he reached for the refilled drink that Harry had set down in front of him. She sighed. “Tom, you obviously didn’t dig very deep into everything that was written about me during my time with George. My god, if I could survive that smear campaign, then I can survive anything they say about me.”

“What did they say?” he asked.

“You can find out on your own if you want to know the details,” she said. “George was feeding the press with false stories about me. It was one of his control things. He would threaten me by saying he would tell the gossip rags a story if I didn’t obey him, but he still told them. And then when they came out with the story, he hurt me because I was getting too much attention.”

Tom had that look of horror again. “He’s a monster.”

“I’ve been through hell in the public eye, Tom,” she said. “If I can make it through that, anything you could throw at me is like a walk in the park—or a jog, if you will.”

Finally, after far too much of their conversation without him smiling or laughing, he let out a low chuckle at her jest. He huffed finally and shook his head. “What the bloody hell are we getting ourselves into?”

“Fuck if I know,” she replied with a shrug. “Do you want a shot? I could use a shot after all that.”

An eyebrow quirked up. “I thought you weren’t a drinker.”

“I can make an exception after that conversation,” she replied and turned to catch Harry’s eyes. He walked over to them. “Two shots of Patrón, please.”

“We’re going to need more than two,” Tom replied.

Anna laughed.

“Limes and salt?” Harry asked.

Anna looked to Tom for what he thought.

“Yes,” Tom said and nodded.

Harry fulfilled their order, but instead of placing the Patrón back behind the bar, set it in front of them. “Did you drive in? Would you like me to phone the house to have them send a car.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d just _love_ that,” Anna replied, “but we won’t be drinking much. Thank you, though, Harry.”

The man once again disappeared.

She reached for the salt shaker. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

He laughed.

“I always pegged you to be so staunchly stuffy and British that you wouldn’t do this,” she replied, licking the spot between her thumb and index finger. She sprinkled the salt over the spot before licking again. She grabbed her shot and downed it, and reached for a lime to shove between her teeth. The offensive liquid burned a fiery trail from her tongue down to her belly. Anna coughed and sucked in a breath, gasping for air as she watched Tom’s tongue flick out against his own skin, then salting the spot, licking again and slamming the drink. He barley flinched.

“Oh, come on,” he laughed. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not fair! You drink scotch and whiskey,” she replied. “You’re conditioned to the burning.”

Tom reached for the Patrón and poured two more shots. “No, I’ve simply been out with friends at too many seedy Mexican bars every time I visit California.”

She reached for the salt again and lifted her hand. Tom stopped her, drawing her hand over to him. Anna was confused, but suddenly very aware of his intent as he grinned and lifted her hand closer to his mouth. His tongue flicked out, hot and wet and tormenting on her skin, sending a bolt of white hot electricity through her body. He took his time before removing his mouth, salting her skin and going back for another taste. This time, she was more prepared for it, but the contact of his lips there followed by teeth lightly grazing the webbed area, propelled a pleasurable shudder across her arm and straight down to the rapidly growing heated pool between her thighs.

She lifted up in her seat and slid forward, attempting to get as close to him as possible. Her pulse went through the roof and breathing was difficult; it only took her a moment to tell herself it was excitement. How could she mistake these feelings? She _wanted_ this man. She wanted his hands and his lips... his body... all over hers.

His blue gaze danced over her face in amusement as he stuck a citrus wedge between his lips and grinned. Upon removing it, he licked his lips clean of the remaining lime juice, alcohol and salt. She realized then that he was teasing her. Testing her. To see what she would do. Because he knew just how to engage her competitiveness.

She knew what she wanted to do, but there were public decency laws against that. Her ears buzzed and it felt like her cheeks were on fire from bashfulness and alcohol as she surreptitiously darted her eyes through the pub. No one was watching... well, at least they had averted their gaze by now. When she turned back to Tom, he was laughing lightly.

He pointed to the second full shot in front of her. “Your turn, darling,” he said in a low purr against the shell of her ear.

Anna looked at the clear liquid and then the hand that rested on the bar nearest to her. It was calling to her. Beckoning her to reciprocate in kind. But she couldn’t do it. Not in front of other people.

“I have a better idea,” she replied. Maybe it wasn’t better, but it would get them out of view of curious onlookers and any more salacious gossip.

His auburn brows shot up in question as she raised her hand to get Harry’s attention. The publican appeared at the bar and leaned over. “Yes, love?”

“Check, please,” she said.

When Harry returned, Tom quickly grabbed the paper out of her fingers and paid the tab.

“So?” Tom asked, both of his warm palms landing on the bareness of her knees.

She slipped down off of her seat, though it wasn’t one of her best moves as his hands caught the hem of her skirt and it—and his grasp—grazed halfway up her thigh before he pulled his hands away to allow her some decency. He didn’t remove either of his feet from her stool, either, so she was trapped in by impossibly long legs. They were probably lovely with all the running he did.

To test her theory, she placed her hands on each trouser-clad thigh to steady herself. Yes, yes, they were lovely. His hands covered hers to keep them from traveling further up, but as she stood on her toes to kiss his lips, a low keen of pleasure escaped him.

Anna grinned and shifted back, licking her lips for a granule of salt he had missed earlier. She grabbed her shot and downed the drink, cringing once again at the pungent flavor.

“That was your idea?” He was clearly amused.

“Nope,” she replied, reaching for her purse and pushing at his outside leg for freedom. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled him toward the door, leaving curious onlookers in their wake.

The frigid night air hit her enflamed skin like an avalanche. It stole the air from her lungs for just a moment but enlivened her the next when she started across the narrow street. Tom walked close behind her toward the car and reached around her once there to open the door for her.

She slipped inside the small interior and waited for him to join her. Before long, they were driving down the road in electrified excitement. Anna wanted to crawl from her skin... to find a release to this tension which had been building since she had met him.

He took the final turn onto the gravel drive up to the house a little too sharply, spraying gravel a bit but not causing any lasting damage to the car or to them. She couldn’t help by laugh at the whole situation. They were like two randy teenagers trying to get to a safe location as quickly as possible and without thinking it through. And while it was nice to be carefree again, she suddenly felt out of her league and self-conscious. 

It didn’t matter that the man beside her had just minutes ago been licking her hand in public. She felt the familiar poison of anxiousness infiltrating her body as he parked the car and as he tried to maintain a dignified air walking around to her side. She told herself she was just anxious about life. It was nothing bad. Everyone felt this way before taking their boyfriend home.

When she stepped out of the car and stood to full height, he kissed her slowly, surely, first ghosting his lips against hers, then covering them fully, drawing from her a breathy moan. God, it felt heavenly.

His thumb, which had rested against her chin to hold it in place while he kissed, drew a line down her throat, teasing along the modest neckline of her dress. When the hand attached to that thumb slowly unfurled and splayed across her upper chest and dipped slightly between the valley of her breasts, it suddenly became very real.

She slipped out of his grasp and away from him on wobbly legs. Without looking back, she started for the house—anything to put a little distance between them. But he was quicker. Not for the first time that night, she realized his legs were impossibly long. She realized, in some small bit of mortification, that he must have thought she was teasing him.

He caught up to her; he grabbed her arm. The grip was like a vice as it moved to her hand. In the momentum of her movement, she was unable to halt before their connection resulted in a hard yank on her shoulder. She spun around and he pushed her against the wall, his lips again on hers.

It wasn’t a move made out of anger. She knew he wasn’t trying to do that. Nor did it particularly hurt. But that didn’t stop the memories of similar, though horribly painful, experiences in her past from filling her brain. Instead of focusing on the man in front of her... the wonderful, sexy, charismatic man kissing her and touching her, all she could picture was the stone cold anger in George’s hazel eyes as he did the same.

And she freaked out.

A gurgle of protest rose in her throat, but he smothered it with a kiss. He must have thought it was a moan. “Tom,” she said, hearing her anguish even though he seemed to disregard it.

So she placed her hands on his chest to push him back. It amazed her how surprisingly solid he was for appearing so lanky. “Tom, please.” Her breathing was labored now. It had nothing to do with what he was attempting to do to her body.

The tightness in her chest was back as her heart hammered against her sternum. Tears were burning her eyes. She had to get out of here.

“Tom, stop,” she said through emotion and tears threatening to fall. “Stop!”

He jumped back from her, frightened from the vehemence in her voice. “Anna? What did I... what’s wro—”

She felt like she was going to be sick, so she pushed past him and rushed into the house. He reached out for her again, but this time she escaped him. She ran past a confused brother—she didn’t stop to ascertain who it was—and up the stairs to her room where she locked both doors and drew the curtains on her balcony exit. Anna barely made it to her bathroom to divest herself of tequila and ginger ale and the birthday cake from dinner with her family. 

After she had flushed the toilet and pressed her head to the ancient tiled wall, she realized that she had forgotten for just a brief moment in time that she was still damaged. All those worries and promises they had talked about earlier wouldn’t mean _a single thing_ , if she couldn’t get past the anxiety and fear.

It was only then that Anna realized she had never hated George Devlin more than she did at that very moment. But, she also absolutely refused to let him have the glory of ruining a good man like Tom for her.

Sorting it all out would have to wait until tomorrow morning, when she wasn’t crying and her nerves weren’t so raw.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My many thank to everyone reading, leaving kudos and/or reviewing. I'm so honored that you've followed my imagination this far. I've still got a lot to get to in this story, so I hope you continue loving it! Enjoy! :D

To say that he didn’t want to get out of bed the following morning was a huge understatement. Not only had the day dawned gray, cold and rainy, but Tom was completely beside himself with a pervasive feeling of discomfort. Considering how last night ended, he wasn’t even sure he was welcome here, much less showing his face to the rest of the family. Noah had been witness to the last moments of whatever had happened with Anna—frankly, Tom wasn’t quite sure what _had_ happened though he had an idea—and the man had given him a very stern talking to before going after Anna.

Tom, on the other hand, had taken to the exterior of the house in a vain attempt to cool off and try to sort things out in his head. All thinking about it had done was give him a terrible headache with the waning of a liquor-induced buzz. Conceding defeat, he had carefully made his way into the house in case lynch mob had waited to exact the punishments in which he had been warned. Thankfully, the house was dark as he mounted and ascended the first staircase. It seemed as though everyone was in bed, so he quickly hurried in the direction of his room to escape any more attention.

However, as walked down the corridor to his door, the sound of faint crying coming from Anna’s room made his stomach drop and shot a sickening jolt of fear through him. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he had... somehow. It seemed like everything was getting on so well at the pub, but it was like a bucket of icy water had been turned on their heads and the whole situation disintegrated before him. What had he done? He just didn’t understand it.

Or, perhaps, he just didn’t want to understand it.

He had stopped in front of her door and lifted his hand to knock, but stopped himself when a low, soothing voice came from inside the room. “Shhh, Anna,” said the feminine voice. “It’s alright, my love.”

It was her mother. Tom was surprised, because Merry had not struck him as a particularly warm mother figure, but he was glad that Anna wasn’t alone, at least. He probably wouldn’t have been any help to her anyway, had he actually knocked.

“Mum,” said a sniffling Anna, “I need to go back to London tomorrow.”

“What about Tom?” Merry asked.

“I’ll tell him,” Anna replied. “Tomorrow, I’ll tell him.”

Tell him what? That she was going home? Or something else? Was she going to end this now after it was just getting off the ground? Maybe his biggest fears had come to fruition—that she would never be able to be fully loved by another man. And if that were the case, Tom knew there could never be anything between them because he required a certain amount of physical intimacy in his relationships.

It was with that dread enveloping him that he had gone to bed, hoping he would wake up and it would have all been a terrible dream. No such luck, he mused darkly, as he watched rain drizzle down the leaden glass panes in the windows. 

After thinking he had waited an appropriate amount of time to dress and face the tribunal, he made his way downstairs. They were waiting for him in the breakfast room, eating silently but for the sounds of cutlery on china plates. He was acutely aware of the fact that the information about what had happened last night had been spread to everyone; their attention was fully on him as soon as he set foot in the room. The only saving grace was that Cassandra and Eddie were nowhere to be found. Neither was Anna. 

So he poured himself a cup of coffee—he’d need a few, plus some tea—and a piece of toast. He sat next to Celia. It seemed much safer than the chair between Gabe and Noah, even though both brothers glared at him from the other side of the table, intent on making their feelings known without having to say them. Tom would have laughed at them if he didn’t have any sense of self-preservation.

Breakfast continued in this manner for a good ten minutes before the door opened again to admit a shell of the woman he had encountered last night at the pub. It was a punch to his stomach. Had he done that? No, he hadn’t done that. Nothing he had done last night was wrong. She had been enjoying it. Teasing him... that was until everything changed on the front stoop of the house. An external force had made her this way.

Anna’s red-rimmed eyes fell on him. He took it as a good sign that she didn’t frown at him or start crying again. As a matter of fact, the lips pressed into a firm line slightly lifted up in a sad smile. She poured herself a glass of orange juice at the sideboard before turning around to look at the table. Gabe had pushed out the chair between him and Noah; Anna recognized what he had done with a slightly annoyed sniff and instead walked around the table. Tom watched her, riveted to the action and not quite understanding. She came around to his side of the table and set her juice down on the table before pulling out her seat and sitting beside him with an air of finality.

When Tom finally looked back at Gabe and Noah, both men were in a state of angry shock at their sister’s apparent preference to sit beside him. Not that Tom blamed them. Why would she choose to sit next to him if he had hurt her?

Anna grabbed a slice of toast from the wire holder on the table and methodically buttered and spread jam on it. She took two bites, swallowed them down with a sip of orange juice, and sat still for a few minutes after which she seemed to animate.

“Gabe, Noah,” she said hoarsely, “stop it.”

Both brothers made faces at her.

She ignored them with a wave of her hand. “So, I hate to cut the weekend short, but I am going back to London today.”

“Okay,” Gabe said. “I’ll drive you back.”

“No.” Anna’s voice was firm and decisive. She turned to him, her gaze serious. “Tom, would you be willing to take me back?”

Surprise filled him, but he nodded his head enthusiastically. “It would be a pleasure to.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she turned back to her breakfast.

Gabe was not pleased with the situation, and did not let it rest. “Anna, you’re doing it again.”

“What am I doing?” she asked.

“You’re blocking us out,” Gabe replied.

Anna rolled her eyes. “I am not. Tom and I have things to talk about it.”

“That’s what you said all the time with George!” Gabe’s anger resulted in him standing from his seat, fists balling at his sides. “I am _not_ going to let you do this again... I’m...”

Anna stood up and leaned over the table, meeting her brother’s eyes. “This is between Tom and me. It does not involve you and Noah, or Mum or Dad or Eddie.”

“But Anna,” Noah said, his voice soft and coaxing, “see reason here. What happened last night...”

“You don’t know what the fuck happened last night, Noah, so shut up,” she replied.

Tom wanted to reach out for her. To calm her. But he didn’t know if she could take the stimulus at the moment. Her hackles were up and she was not backing down. Even though she was depleted from whatever _had_ happened last night, her standing up for herself was something to behold.

“Your crying wasn’t enough?” Noah asked. His voice dripped with skepticism as the man shifted his gaze to Tom, who felt about an inch tall. He didn’t want to be the reason for this unrest in her family.

Anna pushed her chair back and looked at him. “Tom, can you be ready to go in an hour or so?”

“In five minutes, if you wanted,” he heard himself saying.

“Good,” she said. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Tom watched as she fled once more from his sight, heaving a great sigh. His heart was heavy as he stood up and looked at her uneaten breakfast. Just like their fledging relationship, he felt like it was slipping through his fingers unconsumed before they even took a decent crack at it. He swallowed what was left of his coffee and stood from his seat, trying to remain as dignified as possible leaving the room.

\-----

She hadn’t said a thing to him after her terse farewells to her family members. Instead, she had wrapped herself in a particularly heavy jumper and curled into the tiniest ball the passenger seat and seat belt would allow. She stared straight ahead, watching the road as they passed through towns and cities. An hour outside of London, she finally seemed to unfreeze and stretched her legs out in front of her.

“I’m so unbelievably sorry for everything,” she said cautiously. “I didn’t mean to put you in that situation at breakfast.”

He couldn’t smile. It just wasn’t in his repertoire today. “It’s alright.”

Anna shook her head. “No, it’s not. And with how I left things last night... I’ve really got to get my act together.”

Tom watched the road rather than turning to look at her. “What did happen last night? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she said with a slight, sweet but throaty laugh. “You were doing everything right.”

He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the lap belt. At least he hadn’t completely lost his ability to romance a woman.

“I had a panic attack.” Her tone had a long suffering pain in it, as though she were resigned to the fact that they would never get better. “A really violent one. That last time I pulled out of your arms and you caught me by the hand and pulled me back against the wall? The anxiety about the situation was already there, then that action triggered bad memories with George... you couldn’t have known or planned for it. It just happens like that sometimes.”

Tom nodded. Of course it made him feel better to know that he hadn’t been bad, but it didn’t allay his fears about any future attempts at intimacy. “You were anxious about us, er, being together?”

“Of course I was,” she replied, “but my desire for you was more than the anxiety until you grabbed me like that.”

He pursed his lips and squinted into the distance through the windscreen.

Anna sighed. “I haven’t had one of those types of attacks in a long time. Usually I can stop them before they become too debilitating, but not last night.”

Tom listened to her words and let them hang in the air as he drove further down the motorway. There was so much that needed to be said, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He didn’t want to ruin his dream of a relationship with her before he had some time to at least enjoy it.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, finally.

He shook his head and glanced at her. “Hmm? I’m not thinking anything.”

“Tom, I know you well enough to know when you’re thinking,” she replied. “You stop talking when you think and get this squinty look.”

“Do I?” he laughed in spite of himself.

She chuckled lightly.

“It’s not important.”

Anna seemed unhappy with that answer and turned to look out her side window. It fogged slightly with her warm breath and she reached up with a jumper-covered arm to wipe the spot away. “What _I_ think you’re thinking is that you made the wrong decision to get into a relationship with me and my baggage.”

“I’m not thinking that at all,” he replied.

“Then you’re thinking that I’ll never sleep with you,” she said.

The statement completely floored him. So much so, it was difficult to keep the car from swerving at her pronouncement.

“We did sleep together.” It was worth trying to divert her attention. Frankly, he didn’t want to think any more about it at the moment.

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I’m talking about.”

He did not reply because he could not find words that would explain his thoughts. She immediately jumped to conclusions and nodded her head in that dismissive, passive way that told him she was just trying to learn to “live with it.”

“Anna, we shouldn’t have moved that fast, anyway,” he said. “We can give it time. I know you’ll work through it... no, _we’ll_ work through it together.”

She gave him the most forlorn look imaginable.

“I’ll give you all the time in the world, Anna,” he said. 

She nodded her head and looked down at her folded hands, picking at her jumper again. Her body shuddered as she drew in what he imagined was meant as a calming breath, but upon darting his gaze to his left, he saw the tears welling in her eyes. She quickly reached up and flicked them away, and ran her hands through her hair.

“Aw, love, don’t,” he said, reaching for her. He caught a hold of her right hand and brought it across the center console, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

Anna gave him a watery, emotional chuckle. “You’re too good for me.”

Tom disagreed. “I’m not good enough.”

And really, he wasn’t. He couldn’t believe he had been so selfish earlier to think they couldn’t have anything lasting because it seemed like physical intimacy would be out of the question after what had happened. How could he have started writing it all off? Tom refused to give up on her or their fledgling relationship. It was one night and one mishap. 

Anna withdrew her hand from his and entwined both her hands together. “You know the really shitty part about all of it?”

“No,” he said. “What?”

“It’s not the actual sex that freaks me out,” she said. “It’s leading up to it. For all the pain he caused me, it was never sexual in nature. It was the snapping me back to you that caused the meltdown, not the fact that you were kissing me and touching me.” 

Tom smiled, finally. It was a small one, but he was truly pleased to hear this news from Anna. “I’ll definitely be more careful next time.”

“I’m not a china doll, though,” she remarked. “So don’t think I’m fragile.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he replied. He wished then that he wasn’t driving down the motorway so he could be touching her in other ways. But she still seemed to be a little unsettled after last night, so he didn’t make an attempt at reaching out for her hand again. He had to remind himself that all good things came to those who waited. It would certainly teach him a lesson in temperance, which was not a bad lesson, considering his recent foray into hedonism with women who were not Anna.

Anna watched the road again, zoning out and curling back into the ball. This time, she bent her arm and rested on it like a pillow between the car window and her head. Slowly, her eyes drifted shut, he though to sleep. He felt certain she had been up much of the night worrying about this, like he had, so he let her. After awhile longer, though, just on the outskirts of London, she hummed lowly to the new song on the radio. Honestly, he hadn’t even been paying attention to it, his mind so wrapped up in other things, but now he couldn’t help but listen to it.

“At least you have good taste in music,” she said softly, not bothering to open her eyes.

“You think so?” he asked.

Anna nodded. “It’s definitely better than the Bieber I had to listen to on the way up there. I wanted to kill myself.”

Tom laughed loudly at that. It felt good to laugh finally. “Don’t tell me you’re a music snob.”

One brown eye opened and fixed on him menacingly. “I love all music. That’s not music.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s an autotuned cat fight,” Anna replied. “I get what he’s trying to do, but there are other words in the dictionary than ‘baby, baby, oh.’”

“You’re a snob,” Tom shrugged. “That’s okay. I think you’ve probably earned the right to be one.”

Anna grinned and closed her eyes again, even though he knew she was not sleeping, and they lulled into a companionable silence but for the soft music on the radio. They did not speak until he was pulling to a stop in front of her building.

“Parking’s always difficult around here,” she remarked. “Drop me off. It’ll be easier.”

“I was taught to take the lady to her door.”

She pointed to the open spot just outside the front door meant for loading and unloading. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you trying to get away from me?” he teased, but his tone belied the real worry he had about her truly wanting to escape.

Anna turned to him, the look in her eyes serious. “No, I’m not. I was considering inviting you to stay for a little while.”

“Hrm,” he said. “Then let me find a spot to park and I’ll come up with you.”

“Tom,” Anna said flatly, “take the car back to wherever you got it and then come back over. It’s all metered parking here. You wouldn’t be able to stay for a long time.”

He grinned. “How about you come over to my flat? I can make you dinner and we can spend some time together.”

“You can cook?” she asked dubiously.

“Do you doubt me?” he replied with a laugh.

“No man can possibly be all the things you are and still be real,” she replied. “Men like you are fictional and we read about them in the pages of romance novels.”

“You think so?” he asked. “I’m just me.”

She giggled and leaned over, kissing his lips lightly. “And humble, too.” After a moment, she reached for the handle on the door and pushed it back. “Alright, text the address to me. What time should I come by?”

“Maybe seven-ish?” he said.

“Sounds great.” She hopped out of the car and gathered her things from the back seat, slinging her bag and purse over one shoulder and her computer bag over the other.

Anna shut the doors; he waited until she disappeared inside the building and let out a great sigh. In all the scenarios in which this morning had played out in his mind while he had tried to sleep last night, this was an agreeable conclusion. Though he still felt as though it wasn’t resolved—and it would bother him constantly—it was better than not having talked about what happened. He was just thankful Anna felt comfortable enough with him to be able to open up.

Tom turned to look out the windscreen to find a stern looking police officer motioning for him to leave the area. He waved at the man and pulled out into traffic, excited but also realistic about the evening ahead of him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU! You have no idea what your comments, kudos and reads mean to me! Please enjoy.
> 
> Also, I am on tumblr now, if you would like to follow this story at that location. It's losille2000 there! :D

Anna seriously didn’t know what she was thinking as she crossed the busy London streets in search of Tom’s townhouse, deciding she should have taken taxi over here instead of the tube. There literally seemed to be hundreds of people out tonight, enjoying all the city had to offer, bumping her and pushing past and yelling and laughing. It wasn’t strange for this part of London to have this kind of activity on a Saturday night, but it made her acutely aware of the fact that she didn’t get out much anymore.

She should have just stayed at home in front of the warm fire while she sipped some tea. Her frayed nerves after last night and the unhappy scene this morning at breakfast needed the respite to recharge and move forward. She needed the time to come to terms with the fact that her relationship with Tom was going to continue moving quickly—and that it felt natural to be moving at this pace, notwithstanding what had happened. One night to herself wouldn’t have been obscene, but she found, as she had ever since running into him in the park three weeks ago, that she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Nothing was going to keep her away from him.

Not even crowded London streets with rowdy, annoying people.

She finally found the building he had described to her—gray stone with an aged wooden door, not unlike the many others along this street—with a simple No. 21 on the lintel. People moved around her as she paused and looked up at the unassuming structure. It didn’t seem as daunting as she had imagined it would be, but she still took a breath to steady herself. She pushed back the short wrought iron gate surrounding the front stoop and climbed the stairs. He had said to call when she arrived instead of knocking, so she dialed his number and waited for him to pick up the phone.

“I’ll be down,” he said by way of answering and hung up the call. On cue, she heard the sounds of his heavy footfalls clambering down the steps, somewhat akin to an excited child trying to get to the door for a special delivery in the post. She could imagine him all arms and legs and enthusiasm coming to a skidding halt on the other side of the door.

She laughed when he finally unlocked the door and pulled it back to reveal a large smile on his face. He looked comfortable and smart in well-slung jeans and a long sleeved black cardigan buttoned over a white shirt. It made her wonder if the man ever looked shabby. She knew the answer without asking it, but it still mystified her. Even in the rain a week ago, he had been amazing.

“Hello,” he grinned and held the door open for her. She entered and stopped on the welcome mat inside, glancing down a hall that led to a closed door. “That’s my landlady’s flat. We’re upstairs.”

He motioned to the narrow staircase for her to precede him up the steps. She came out into a long hallway that emptied into what appeared to be a greatroom of some type. 

“Did you find it easily?” he asked as he met her inside the doorway and closed it behind them.

“Huh?” she asked. “Oh, yeah, it was easy. But crazy busy tonight.”

Tom nodded and placed a hand on the small of her back, the warmth of his touch permeating the cloth of her jacket and sweater. Gently, he moved her down the hall until they came out on a large room with a half loft above it. The dining table in the lower room was set, but the rest of the living room was sparsely furnished but for a television and some comfortable looking couches and chairs. Overflowing bookshelves lined the walls of the loft area. A desk and chair with a small reading lamp abutted a window, sandwiched between two more bookshelves. In the back of the lower level, beneath the loft, there were two doors on either side that she felt certain led to the bedrooms. 

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“I like how open it is,” she said. “My flat seems so boxed in sometimes with all the nooks and walls.”

He nodded. “It’s good for entertaining. May I take your coat?”

Anna allowed him to help her out of the garment. He opened a door near them to reveal a coat closet. There he hung it as she looked behind them. On the other side of the hallway opening, was a tiny kitchen.

She smiled. “I don’t feel so bad now. Your kitchen’s about as big as mine is, but the smells coming from it are way better.”

Tom laughed. “I’ll be honest. It’s just Bolognese from a bottle.”

“A-ha!” Anna pointed a finger at him as she snorted with laughter. “You’re not so perfect after all.”

He shook his head dolefully. “Alas, I am not.”

“That’s okay,” she replied. “I would still manage to burn sauce from a bottle.”

“Would you care for anything to drink?” he asked. “I have all the basics.”

She shrugged. “Water, I think.”

“Feel free to look around while I check the food,” he said. “Just don’t go in that back bedroom on the right. That’s my flatmate’s room.”

“You have a roommate?” she called, moving to the mantle over the fireplace to look at the pictures in frames.

“Flatmate, darling,” he teased. “ _You_ would be my roommate if you stayed over.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Now you’re going to tease me about my Americanisms?”

His light laugh traveled from the other room as he moved a few pots and pans about in his cupboard. “If I can’t do it, who can?”

“True enough.” 

The pictures on the mantle were interesting in their variety, and she was happy to see it wasn’t a line of photos of all the other big name celebrities he had met. She had been in countless homes of other actors, musicians and celebrities where the important photos on display in the common areas of the house were all to ‘show off’. They were the prestige. These photos, however, though mixed with some famous faces, were more mundane. Chris and Tom were surrounded by a group of other guys in one photo, covered in head-to-toe mud and grass stains after a rugby match. Tom and a group of other friends surrounded a large table at a pub, holding pints and drinks up in a salute for the photo-taker. Then there were several photos with another woman smiling for a camera. She looked very familiar.

Anna glanced to the side as Tom joined her. He held out a glass of chilled water for her and looked at the pictures. “That’s my flatmate, Amanda.”

“Amanda?” she asked with a frown, looking back at the photos. A sickening feeling permeated her gut, but it didn’t affect her in the way a panic attack did. This was a completely different feeling. “Will she be around later?”

“Probably not. She’s hardly around anymore,” he said. “She is in university for her post-grad in psychotherapy.”

Anna nodded, swallowing around a sudden lump in her throat. She looked back at the pictures and the reason for the woman’s familiarity dawned on her. This wasn’t happening. It _couldn’t_ be happening. “Does she go by Mandy?”

“She does,” he replied with a fond smile for his friend. 

“Tom...” She left him and went to sit on a couch.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Anna met his eyes as he sunk into the seat beside her. “How did you find out about me... about my history?”

“Why?” he asked. “I don’t understand.”

“Just tell me. How did you find out about it?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I told you. Wikipedia. I’m not proud of it... why does it matter now? I’m confused... we were just talking about Man—.”

As his voice trailed off, she saw the recognition dawn in his eyes. His lips formed a small “oh” and she could see the wheels turning in his head as he searched for something to say. She had no doubt he was truthful. These actions were not the actions of a person who lied.

“I _knew_ when you said Dr. Stuart last night that it sounded familiar, I just didn’t know why,” he said softly. “But I swear to you, she hasn’t said anything to me at all... I mean, she has given me general pointers and advice... but she hasn’t...”

Anna reached out for him, resting a hand on his leg. “I believe you, I’m just... I’m a little angry that she still sat in on a session between Dr. Stuart and me when there was the conflict of interest.”

Tom agreed. “I’m so sorry, Anna. If I had known... it doesn’t sound like the Mandy I know. She’s always been the soul of discretion, especially now more than ever with all the paparazzi intrusion.”

“I’m sure she is,” Anna replied. “I’m just uncomfortable because she has had complete access to my file and all of Dr. Stuart’s notes and now that you know... I don’t...”

“Anna, stop, please,” Tom said. “I’m not going on any more information mining expeditions. I shouldn’t have gone to Wikipedia to begin with, and now karma is biting me in arse. I have you here sitting right beside me, and you can tell me what you want. We’re here together and you know I’ll always be here to listen if you want to tell me anything.”

She pursed her lips and reached out for the glass of water she had placed on the table. After a long drink, she breathed in deeply and looked at him. Clearly, he hadn’t known about the strange connection through Mandy. It did make her relax a considerable amount, but she also knew he was an incredible actor. Was he lying? Anna met his worried, hurt eyes. No, she chose to believe he was truthful about this.

A bell chimed in her periphery and Tom sat back. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Good,” she said, thankful for the diversion from the topic. “Let’s go.”

\----

Tom wanted to know when he was ever going to catch a break, but it certainly felt it wasn’t going to happen any time soon. 

It seemed like every single time something good was happening between him and Anna, something else inevitably interrupted it, whether it was a physical barrier or an emotional one. Of course it would just have to happen that of all the bloody therapists in London, Anna would be seeing the one in which his flatmate was currently serving for her internship. It made sense to him; Dr. Alastair Stuart was one of the most respected physicians in the country, and Mandy had worked hard to be accepted into that internship. As for Anna, he didn’t expect her to be seeing anyone less skilled for her treatment. But it didn’t make the forging of the foundation of trust necessary to any relationship—but especially paramount in theirs—any easier.

In fact, it posed many more problems that would need to be addressed at some point.

Anna had not been as easy with him since the realization that they shared a mutual association in which neither of them had known they were connected. She seemed to believe and trust him when he swore he hadn’t known, but he wasn’t an idiot. He felt her pulling back just slightly to protect herself.

Each new occurrence drove a wedge further and further between them through no fault of their own. His greatest fear, he realized, was that they would not be able to ever compensate for it. He had no idea how to combat the extraneous forces dooming their relationship from the start; he wasn’t entirely sure there was a way to combat them.

Now there stood a space between them—not physical, though, because she had allowed him to wrap his arms around her as they watched an old movie after dinner. This rift was something else left over from what had transpired last night and compounded by the news about Mandy. Even though they had apparently patched things over during the ride back to London, the problem with Mandy had ripped it back open to exposed the problem wound again. 

He didn’t know what to do and Anna’s silence on the matter frightened him; he could no sooner as Anna to stop seeing a doctor whom she adored than he could ask one of his closest friends to abandon her goals and internship. So he chose not to say anything. Perhaps in the morning an answer would present itself.

Anna sighed and curled closer to him, drawing him from his thoughts. She rested her head on his shoulder as the show turned to a commercial break. “When do you go back to set?” she asked.

“Tuesday,” he replied. “And then I’m there pretty much every day. We’re supposed to wrap principal on the fourteenth, so we’re struggling to cram everything in.”

“Ah,” she said, in the cool, nonchalant way she had perfected. 

After a few commercials and his curiosity getting the better of him, he asked, “Why?”

“The next few weeks are going to be busy for me, too,” she replied. “I was trying to decide if I wanted to stay longer and soak up the time with you now, or if there would be more time later.”

Tom was unable to keep his face straight. So he grinned like a loon. “You told me last night we can make our schedules work if we try.”

“We can,” she said. “That’s why I’m not going to waste a minute together right now.”

He laughed. “You could come visit me on set for lunch or dinner or something.”

“I don’t want to get in the way,” she replied. “I know how busy movie sets can get.”

“Then you should also know how much downtime there is,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

Anna smiled. “I’m happy to hear you say that.”

Tom nodded and concentrated on the television as the show came back from commercial. She shifted her position again, removing her head from his shoulder to sit up until she was just out of reach of his encompassing arms. “You okay?”

“I just have a twinge in my neck,” she replied. “I get them if I haven’t practiced in a while and then go back to it full-bore like I did this afternoon. I’ll be fine.”

He looked at her for a long time, the television completely forgotten, until he couldn’t refrain from mumbling, “I’ve been known to give wonderful massages.”

“Hmm?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from the television to look at him as though she hadn’t heard him. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he replied softly.

Anna rolled her eyes playfully and reached back to gather her hair messily into an elastic band that had been on her wrist. She turned away from him and motioned to the side of her neck, pointing to a location behind her right ear. Her fingers traced a line across the edge of her hairline and down her neck. “That’s where the twinge is. Do your best.”

“Oh, I will.” Really, he felt like a kid in a sweet shop. The only thing better would have been if he could have unwrapped the candy a little bit further, but he didn’t want to tempt fate tonight. Not after last night.

He started gently at first, so as not to alarm her, but slowly increased the pressure into the knots that had formed in her muscles, using a knuckle to knead a particularly tough one out. A soft, pleasurable moan escaped her lips, the sound so suggestive that it wrapped around his spine and crawled down, straight to his groin.

“I’m going to hire you as my personal masseuse from now on,” she remarked.

He chuckled. “Darling, I’m not sure you could afford my services.”

Anna laughed loudly and openly at that, the first time since the previous evening that he had heard the lovely music again. She turned and wrapped her fingers in the hair on the back of his head as she pulled him down for a kiss.

When she finally let him up for air—or he let her up for air, he wasn’t certain who exactly was in control of the situation—she gave him an impish grin. “I think we could work out a deal.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, nodding his head in acceptance though it was really just to clear the cobwebs out of his head.

“But some other time,” she replied. “I should head back to my flat before much longer.”

“You could sleep over,” he said.

Anna shook her head. “I, er... I don’t think that would be a very good idea at the moment.”

“Why?” he asked. Honestly, it made his heart hurt that she didn’t want to stay. Apparently she wasn’t as ready to move on after last night as he had thought. It confirmed for him the existence of that chasm full of things that had not been said.

She gave him a sad smile but verbalized nothing.

“Then let me take you home,” he said. “I don’t want you going alone.”

He was up and stretching before she tried to talk him out of it.

“You don’t need to ride the train all the way over there and all the way back,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Not listening.”

“Tom,” she said as he went for the coat closet to retrieve both of their outer garments.

He slipped his coat on and looked at her expectantly. “Come on.”

“You don’t have to,” she said, but stood up and walked over to him anyway.

“I’m not going to let you talk me out of it this time.” He waved a finger at her. “I am taking you home and walking you to your door.”

“What about you coming back?” she asked. “I’ll worry about you then.”

Tom laughed and held out the coat for her to slip her arms into it. “If anyone bothers me, I’ll beat them down with my amazing stage fighting skills.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nope. Let’s go.”

With a final huff of resignation, Anna took his outstretched hand and allowed him to guide her out of the flat, out of the building and down the street to the tube station. 

\----

The train was fifteen minutes away when they arrived, so they stood huddling together on the platform. After some time, she looked up at him askance and chuckled. He glanced down at her. “What?”

“We could have just taken a cab. It would have been faster,” she replied.

“Possibly,” he said with a smirk, scanning the platform over her head as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Anna slipped her arms under his open jacket and held onto him, enjoying the warmth in the drafty space. “At least this way we get to spend more time together.”

“Sneaky,” she replied.

Tom grinned, but continued to stare forward until the train arrived and they boarded. They were two stops into the trip when a man slipped into the seat across from them. He instantly recognized Tom; Tom’s arm around her shoulders tightened. It was barely perceptible, but she had felt the sudden tension in his body against hers and the electric change in the air. He was bracing himself for a fan encounter.

The man didn’t say anything, but took his phone out and began typing something into the phone. Anna didn’t have to ask what he was typing. Clearly, it was something about Tom, but Tom seemed grateful that they weren’t spoken to or engaged in any other way. He leaned over and buried a kiss in her hair, his arm tightening and pulling her even closer.

When they finally reached their destination and they were walking down the street in the direction of her flat, she looked up at his silent, somewhat grim, countenance. “What was all that?”

He shrugged. “I figured if I was going to be the subject of girlfriend rumors again, I might as well make them worthwhile.”

Anna’s sigh turned into a small giggle. “So there’s no going back from here?”

Tom gave her a serious look. “Once it’s on Twitter, it’s impossible to stop.”

“Maybe he just texted a friend,” Anna replied.

“I saw the app on his mobile,” Tom said. 

They walked a few more paces before she looked up at him again. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No... I guess I had just hoped to have a little more time without having to worry about all that. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed right away.”

She smiled and bumped him playfully as they walked. “Maybe it’ll just all blow over and we can go on with life for a bit. But even if it doesn’t, I’m not too concerned about it. Like I said last night, I can handle it. I’m not some girl who hasn’t dealt with the press. I’ve dealt with it in varying degrees throughout my entire life.”

Tom looked at her for a very long time, as though he were trying to read her mind, but then his face softened. “I keep forgetting that. This isn’t new to you. I’m more worried that with, er, everything you’re working through, it could really scare you away from me.”

“If last night didn’t fucking scare me away, nothing will,” she replied.

“I suppose I should take that for a point on my side,” he said, though his tone was dry and sarcastic.

“Come on, Tom, don’t be like that,” she said. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he said.

“It happened. I’m moving on. I’ve got to learn to cope with it,” she said. “I hope you can, too.”

Tom nodded.

Anna smiled and squeezed his hand. “But since we’re on the topic of the press... I’m going have to do a few interviews before the charity thing and if it goes public, they’ll ask me. What do you want me to say?”

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, causing her to backtrack a few steps. “I wouldn’t presume to tell you what you should do, Anna. That’s your choice. What would you like to do?”

Anna stepped in front of him and stood on her toes, brushing her lips across his. “Frankly, I want to tell every person I meet.”

Tom laughed.

“I’ll think of something,” she said. “We’ll figure it out as we go along.”

“Just warn me,” he said. “So I can prepare Luke for it.”

Anna grabbed his hand again and pulled him down the sidewalk. “He’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he’ll love you, he’ll just hate the work,” Tom replied. “There’s a reason he’s always with me. I create a lot of work when left to my own devices. But he’s paid well for his time, so don’t worry about it.”

“I can imagine,” she said as they turned the corner onto her street.

When they finally reached her front door, Anna turned to him and smiled. “This is the end of the line for you tonight, my dear.”

His bottom lip jutted out in a pout to end all pouts.

“I’ve become immune to pouting after a week with my nieces and nephews,” she replied.

“Damn.” He hung his head. “It was worth a try.”

She wanted to invite him in more than anything else in the world, but after the last twenty-four hours, her nerves were still too raw to handle it. If she invited him, it would have been for one reason only. As much as her body wanted it, her mind was still fried from the overload the previous night.

Anna unlocked her door and stepped just inside before turning back to him. His lips were there, teasing her, trying to convince her to let the rest of him inside. She knew better, though, and pressed back on his chest. Tom stepped back, his tongue darting over his lips before his teeth scraped at them.

“Good night, my love,” he said softly.

“Text me when you get back so I don’t worry,” she said.

He bowed his head in acceptance. “Of course.”

“Night,” she said to his back as he turned stalked down the hallway. Anna heard the contented sigh before she even realized she had done it. If he heard it, he had ignored it. She waited until he was out of sight before closing and locking the door.

Exhausted, she went straight for her bedroom to find the most comfortable nightgown she owned, changed and climbed into bed. Twenty minutes passed until the phone on her nightstand chimed for a text message.

_Home safe. No need to pull out my fencing skills. Sleep well._

_I will. Goodnight._

When she didn’t receive another text, she sunk back into her comfortable bed, lamented at the fact that it was cold and empty without another body in it, and eventually fell fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie. I struggled with this chapter. Major writer's block. I hope you all enjoyed it!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, guys! Between the new story I started and school, life has been very busy this week. I hope you enjoy this set up for the remaining chapters of the story. 
> 
> Thank you for all the reads, kudos and comments. You are all amazing.

Tom decided, after sitting at home alone for the better part of the morning on Monday, that he needed to get out of the flat or he was going to go mad. His life usually consisted of an unending parade of auditions, meetings, interviews and other work. It was strange to him to actually have a day off with no obligations taking his time; his natural hyperactivity didn’t appreciate the fact that he was sitting around twiddling his thumbs waiting for Anna to text him back. Since it was his last free time for awhile, he had hoped to spend some of it with her. 

But just like it had been since they'd met, she went for long stretches without communicating anything whatsoever.

It annoyed him until he remembered that she too had a busy life. This wasn’t a woman who sat around on her hands all day, waiting for something to happen. With her getting back into the public life, she would face the same things he faced every day, and that meant she wouldn’t be as available as another, normal woman might be. But he had never wanted a normal woman. He wanted an extraordinary woman—well, at least one he considered extraordinary. 

He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Anna’s extraordinariness came at the price of a hectic schedule and silence, when his sister had insisted he come over to their mother’s for an early lunch and to begin decorating the house for Christmas. He had argued that it was too early to decorate for the holiday, but Emma's arguments about never seeing him won out in the end. After he'd arrived, though, he was thankful for the time with the other two most important women in his life. It was a rare occurrence that saw all of them in one room with each other—he hadn’t even minded being henpecked for the duration—and it had done a fair job keeping his mind off of Anna. Well, that was of course until Emma saw fit to bring up the fact that he was going around with a new girl. His mother had become interested then and insisted she be brought over for tea soon. He had agreed. After all, Anna owed him family time after the two days he had spent with hers.

Decorating for Christmas had also allowed him to stay as far away as possible from his flat so as not to cross paths with Mandy. There was a chance an argument would arise, and he just wasn’t ready to have that discussion with her. And honestly, he thought Anna deserved the first go at her when she went to her next appointment at Dr. Stuart’s. Maybe it was only because he hated confrontation that he didn't want to bring it up, but he knew he would eventually have to say something about it. 

When he had returned to his flat later in the afternoon, he had done nothing but sit and wait and stew over this inevitability. If Anna didn’t get back to him soon, then Mandy would be coming home from work, and the confrontation would commence. For the millionth time, he checked his mobile for any action whatsoever since he had last texted her two hours ago. There was nothing, so he checked his e-mails and posted an update on Twitter about the movie he should have paid more attention to on the television.

And then he sat some more. Sometime after that, he fell asleep on the sofa and didn’t wake again until, in the periphery of his dreaming, the sound of his message alert filled his head. He opened his eyes and reached for the device on the table beside him, blinking to unblur the words. But before he could distinguish them another message came through with a photo of Anna looking forlornly into a mirror, her head covered in aluminium foil. A gloved colorist stood behind her, applying color onto another section of her hair.

He scrolled up to the text before the picture. _At salon torturing my hair._

Tom couldn’t help laughing at scene as he typed a message back to her. _Looks positively agonizing._

_Sorry I didn’t get back sooner. Been here all day and hard to hear with the music techno playing._

Even though he sent a message back with “no worries”, he still breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose. Even with all the troubles they had faced and the multitude they had yet to encounter, he was not ready to let go of her that easily. It was humbling to a fairly confident man to realize he was completely beside himself with worry over a little thing like a few hours of radio silence from a new girlfriend. 

_How much longer do you have?_ he asked.

 _A few more hours. Already did the nails, skin treatments and massages._

_Was the massage better than the one I gave you?_

There was a long pause. He stared at the ellipses in the small bubble on the screen as she typed him a message. From the length of time, he figured it was going to be a long message. What was returned, however, was the exact opposite and annoyed him in its vagueness.

_Yes, it was._

He pursed his lips indignantly, unable to think of something to say. Another message popped up. 

_But only because I didn’t let you go past my shoulders. Opinion may change at a later date._

_I’ll be sure to brush up before then. I won't disappoint you._

She sent him a smiley emoticon. _Look forward to it, but it’s entirely inappropriate for me to be entertaining these thoughts while at the salon._

_I could make it worse._

_That’s what I’m afraid of._

He laughed. _Want to grab some food after you've finished?_

_I’m meeting Eddie tonight to go over some business things. Tomorrow? Have photoshoot and interview most of the day, but I’m free late afternoon and evening._

_On set tomorrow, but check in with me before then and we might be able to fit dinner in if you’d like to come to the set._

_Sounds lovely._

He grinned like a loon. _We’ll chat tomorrow?_

_Plan on it. Have to go, though. They’re pushing my hair over my eyes._

Tom sighed and set the mobile down, looking around the empty flat once again. Now that he _really_ didn’t have anything to do, he tried to focus on the television. It was better than sitting around stewing about the fact that Mandy was due to walk through the front door at any moment.

\-----

Anna couldn’t have been more thankful after being released from the clutches of the salon staff. She still couldn't believe she had spent the better part of a day at the place transforming into her performance-ready self. She would never be the Britney Spears or Jennifer Lopez—or even the Beyonce—of needing to be performance-ready with their bevy of stylists and makeup artists and trainers, but she’d forgotten just how much she _did_ have to do to appear presentable. It was not something she had ever missed, and she planned to continue loathing the process for many more years to come.

It was, however, a necessary evil. And even she would admit she felt a tad more confident as she stepped out the doors into the chilly London night knowing that she looked amazing and felt incredibly relaxed.

Her path to the restaurant where she was to meet Eddie took ten minutes by train, but it was near her stop in Notting Hill. He sat in the back of the room, poring over the wine list and looking every bit perplexed and serious. When she reached him, he looked up at her with a small smile.

“Picking your wine can’t possibly be that difficult,” she said.

He laughed. “I already ordered... I was just reading through the rest to make sure I didn't miss anything.”

Anna rolled her eyes and lowered into the seat across from him.

“You look refreshed,” he said.

“I better be after the amount of work they did on me today,” she said. “I felt like Sandra Bullock in _Miss Congeniality_.”

Eddie set the wine list aside and folded his hands on the table. “You were never that far gone.”

Anna chuckled and pulled a cloth napkin into her lap. A waiter appeared to fill a glass with water. Another waiter appeared with two wine glasses and a bottle of wine.

“No wine for me, thanks,” she said, waving off the glass. After the waiter poured Eddie’s drink and left the table, she looked at her friend. “I hope it’s good.”

He tasted the wine, a thoughtful look on his face as he considered the flavor profile. “It’s a nice vintage. Are you sure you don’t want any?”

“It messes with my meds too much,” she replied. “I think that’s why my meltdown Friday night was so bad... we’d been drinking at the pub.”

Eddie eyed her seriously. “Are you just saying that because you know I’m going to ask you about it?”

Anna shook her head. “No... and yes. It was just a panic attack. And it really wasn’t Tom’s fault. You can report back to everyone else that I’m fine.”

“You can tell them yourself,” Eddie said.

“I’m not talking to them right now. You know that,” she replied.

“You should.”

Anna huffed. “Did they send you as the sacrificial lamb to have this conversation with me or is this dinner really about business?”

Eddie’s shoulders lowered and he sighed. “I won’t say anything else about it. I just think this is a rather big transition time for you and having them to talk to could help.”

“They don’t know anything about anything.” Anna tried her best to keep her annoyance out of her voice, but she failed miserably.

Her friend looked at his hands for a long time as though he were trying to think of something to say to dig himself out the hole he had stepped into. He eventually shook his head and looked at her. “I don’t remember you being so testy.”

“This situation is making me testy,” she replied. “Can we move on?”

“Let’s.” He reached for the briefcase on the chair beside him and withdrew from it a leather bound folder, holding it out for her to take. “It’s your contract for the 8th. All the standard stipulations apply, with your appearance pro bono for Women's Aid.”

Anna nodded her head. “Do you have more gigs for me coming down the pipe? Paid gigs?”

“I’ve had plenty of calls,” he said. “Once we do this show and get the interview articles out in the press, they’ll pick back up. Are you ready for that?”

Anna shrugged. “I was just looking at my calendar of lessons this morning and really wanted to cancel all of them... but to do that I need the assurance of scheduled shows.”

Eddie smiled gleefully. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh! Before I forget, I need my direct contact info off of the website whenever you can get the webmaster to do it,” she said. “We have to revert it back to the general info box.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want random people flooding my inbox after they connect I was the person referenced in that tweet about Tom and me on the train,” she said.

“Nobody will know about it unless there’s a press release,” Eddie said.

Anna met his eyes. “Eddie, I plan to answer in the affirmative if they ask me about relationships tomorrow.”

“They said they’d be focusing on the comeback story and domestic violence awareness,” he said.

“Yes, and my love life moving on is a component of that, right?” she asked.

“I guess. But if you don’t give them a name, they won’t know.”

Anna nodded. “Look, I’m just being preemptive about this. I know how protective and nosy fans can be when their favorite idol is seeing someone. We’re not trying to hide away or anything, and sooner or later it will come out. Prepare for it. I'm preparing myself for it. I don't want surprises. I can't handle them right now.”

“I will,” he said, his voice long suffering. “Does Tom know about this?”

“He knows about the tweet,” she said. “Do you want his publicist’s information to talk to him about it?”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary right now. If we ever have to draft a release together, I'll get it then.”

Anna heaved a sigh and flipped through the contract and rider. It looked fairly standard. Eddie had obviously worked out the details beforehand. “I have dinner next week with Beauchamp?”

“Yes, Tuesday next. By the way, he’s a ‘Sir’ now,” Eddie clarified. “Sir David Beauchamp.”

“Oh, lovely, he’ll be even more pompous now,” she mused.

“Tim Walker read me the riot act about it when I was discussing the contract with them,” he said. “So just watch out.”

Anna nodded and chewed on her lower lip as she read through the final page. “When was David knighted?”

“Last year,” he replied. “Honestly, you live in the country and you didn’t even know? You’ve played for him how many times?”

“I don’t pay attention to that stuff,” she said. “Do you have a pen?”

Eddie withdrew a heavy pen from his briefcase and passed it over to her, but did not let go of it when she reached for it. “You’re sure about this? There’s no going back after you sign that line.”

“I’m sure.” 

He released his hold on the pen.

Anna quickly signed her name, looked at the black ink for a long moment, not believing she had done it, and then closed the folder. “Well, there it is.”

“Indeed. How does it feel?”

“Utterly terrifying.”

He reached out and placed a comforting hand over her right, squeezing slightly. “Knowing you like I do, you’ll be magnificent.”

Anna truly hoped he knew what he was talking about. She handed the folder back to him, thankful that it was done. With the deal set in stone, it all felt a little bit more real. And for the first time since Eddie had mentioned it last week, she was excited.

“I sent the schedule for the next few days to you. I’ll meet you at the photoshoot tomorrow,” he explained. “I have some last minute recording with Cassandra that I need to be present for.”

“Okay,” Anna said. “Are you still sleeping with her?”

Eddie balked at the question, but she considered it fair game considering the working relationship they had all agreed upon a few days ago. “Even though it shouldn’t be your concern, it was only a handful of times since the _My Fair Lady_ premiere. I stopped it after this last weekend. Celia told me to end it.”

Anna felt vindicated, but knew there were a lot of things going into Celia becoming involved, not least of all the fact that she was thinking like an attorney and grew anxious any time someone mentioned anything about romance between two people who were contractually bound in business. 

Just like Eddie and Cassandra.

Anna laughed. “Did she pull the sister card or lawyer card?”

“All of the above.” Eddie sipped his wine and rolled his eyes. “I deserved it and I shouldn’t have done it. Cassandra got what she wanted from it.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say she got what she wanted,” Anna replied.

Eddie shrugged. “More or less.”

She pursed her lips and reached for her water. “Do we have any more business?”

“Nope,” he said. “Now I can grill you on personal stuff again.”

“I’d rather not,” she replied.

Eddie grinned. “Too bad, you’re stuck with me until the food arrives.”

“Then I’ll pray for the food to arrive quickly,” she said.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything in here about fangirls and such is meant all in good fun. Also, I don’t know if Tom actually filmed anything in Greenwich, since the only pictures I’ve seen of him there were out of costume, but I’m taking artistic license here since we haven’t seen the movie yet. (Only 3 more months, guys!)
> 
> This may be my last chapter for a few weeks. I’m headed to Dragon Con in Atlanta and look forward to fangirling my long weekend away. It will mess up my writing schedule, but I’m hoping it doesn’t. :-)
> 
> Thanks, everyone, for reading! Enjoy!

The following day, Anna felt somewhat out of place pushing through the crowd to get to the front where a cop stood directing foot traffic away from the movie set. Had Tom said last night that filming was to be in the middle of Greenwich, she might have reconsidered meeting him there, but it was too late to turn back now besides that fact that she was anxious to spend some time with him after two days of not seeing each other 

There were people three and four deep in some places along the perimeter that had been set up around the Old Royal Naval buildings, anxious to get glimpses of the action and the movie stars walking from trailer to set. Many of them were students, but there was also a large contingent of paparazzi set up with telephotos trying to get around the huge canvas screens blocking the actual filming. 

The boom of a loud explosion startled her, but the fervor in the crowd reached a fever pitch. She stopped in front of the stern-faced cop who eyed her from head to foot, probably remarking on her rather trussed up appearance. Anna had worried when she left her own photo shoot with all the makeup and in one of the revealing dressed she had brought with her some of the photos, but when the man smiled appreciatively, she decided that it might actually help her.

“May I help you, miss?”

“Yes,” she smiled as sweetly as possible. A photographer bumped her with his lens and apologized quickly. “My name should be on the guest list. Anna Celeste.”

He eyed her again. “Identification?”

Anna withdrew her ID card and handed it to the man. He grabbed the radio on his shoulder and spoke into it. The radio crackled, but she couldn’t make out what was said over the din of the people around her.

The officer looked at her again and handed her the ID. “They’ll be up soon to take you back. Wait here.”

“Thank you,” Anna replied, stepped aside and around the barrier where the officer had pointed. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, wishing she had at least grabbed a warmer coat before leaving. A golf cart screeched around a corner and zoomed down the paved walk. It came to a halt in front of her so that a tiny, brown haired production assistant could peel out of the driver’s seat. She didn’t stop her fluid movements as she held out a security badge on a lanyard.

“Don’t lose it,” the woman said. “Hop in. I can’t take you straight to set since they are doing stunts with pyro right now, but I’ll take you back to his trailer to wait for him.”

“That’s fine.” Anna climbed into the cart and held on for dear life as the assistant peeled off and made a tight u-turn to go back the way she’d originally come. As they moved further back, Anna could make out bodies moving and action happening behind the translucent canvas fencing. Someone on a megaphone yelled “Cut!” and cheering from the actors, crew and stuntmen followed.

The radio on the assistant’s hip crackled.

“Amy.”

She groaned and picked up the radio. “What?”

“We need you back here now. We’re moving scenes.”

“I have to drop the girlfriend off,” she said.

Anna pursed her lips, not particularly liking the tone of her voice, but Anna imagined they had probably been running the girl ragged with all the gopher work typical of her position.

“She’ll be fine. We’re done with pyro.”

“Alright. Over,” Amy said, making a sharp left hand turn past two uniformed guards. They drove into the main quad. It looked like a warzone. Anna laughed at herself, though, thinking that it was _supposed_ to be a warzone of sorts.

Amy pulled the cart to a screeching halt outside of a group of tents where television monitors and other equipment had been set up, along with director’s chairs and other things indicative of a movie set.

“Wait here,” Amy instructed. “You can get out, but wait here.”

Anna followed her directions and left the cart, smoothing her dress over her front. She looked up in time to find a familiar frizzy haired girl heading in her direction.

“Anna!” the girl called, bouncing happily over to her.

“Hey, Nola,” Anna replied.

“What are you doing here?”

Anna shrugged. “Tom and I are supposed to grab a bite to eat.”

“Oh!” Nola said with a slight blush. “They were just finishing up a scene. They should be out any moment.”

Anna grinned. “Are you keeping busy?”

Nola nodded. “Yeah. Between school and helping mum, I don’t have time for anything else. But I love it! I mean, look where we are!”

She laughed and looked around the hot set, taking in the scale of it, when a group of people turned the corner. Tom was in the center in full costume, laughing and talking and making a gesture like he was being thrown to the ground by an arm around his neck. Either that or he was motioning being strung up on a noose. 

Anna hoped the cuts on his face were fake, but actually liked him a little bit dirty and sweaty—just as he was now—black wig disheveled and costume covered in grime. It was such a strange thing to see him smiling and laughing good naturedly while in the villain’s costume, but it made her giddy at the same time.

It was so strange to admit it to herself, but it was also empowering. That man was _hers_. 

Anna fidgeted from discomfort, though it was more from an uncomfortable amount of attraction to the man now striding along with his friends and cast mates. His eyes scanned the surroundings and passed her, but paused and came back, his grin widening even further. Her heart leapt to her throat and her stomach did a little jig. Goodness, she was so in love with him.

The thought was like a bolt of lightning out of the sky. She froze as it replayed itself in her head. _In love with him?_

The notion seemed so foreign to her... to think it after so long and fighting so hard against it, protecting herself from ever falling victim to something like this again. But this man was different than all the rest. She knew it without having to spend copious amounts of time with him. The people around him—his friends and family—wouldn’t respond to him like they too loved him if he wasn’t special. If he wasn’t different.

But she was in love with him, albeit a tiny sapling of love that needed regular tending to fully grow and blossom.

She didn’t have the time to form words before he strode over to her and devoured her lips. Anna grasped for purchase on his body, hands brushing metal and leather and plastic on their path northward. Her fingers brushed long hair as he pulled back from her, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“Hello, darling,” he said, his voice a purr.

“Uh, er,” she said, struggling to form a cohesive thought. She cleared her throat. “Hi.”

“You look beautiful,” he replied.

Anna giggled. “So do you.”

That comment not only made Tom laugh, but those now around her, namely Chris who looked every bit the mighty Norse god in his armor and red cape. There were _no_ computer effects going into making him appear as large as he was on screen. That was all him. Anna wondered idly how he didn’t break his tiny wife.

“Loki and his bloody fangirls,” Chris murmured as he grabbed a cup of water from a table in one of the tents.

“If anyone’s allowed to be a Loki fangirl, I most certainly am,” she defended.

Chris saluted her with his paper water cup. “Right you are.”

She turned to Tom, finding him with the grin on his face she so loved. It was the one of mirth mixed with complete and utter happiness. “It’s still really weird, though. I feel like I should be cowering or kneeling right now.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Tom said, suddenly serious, and she realized what she’d insinuated.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Anna replied. “I meant... yeah... I’m fine.”

Tom’s lips curved as he kissed her lightly. He motioned to the others that had followed him. “So these are my workmates. And this is the office.”

Anna laughed. “Your office is a wreck. It’s worse than my studio.”

“Yeah, well, yours would be too if you had dark elves coming for you,” Tom said. 

Amy the PA appeared, stopping his train of thought. “We need you back on set in an hour.”

“Alright,” he replied. “We’ll just be in my trailer.”

Amy eyed him suspiciously. “If you take any piece of your kit off, you need to plan to come back out in enough time to put it all back on.”

Tom laughed. “Yes, Amy. Thank you, Amy.”

He turned to Anna, wiggled his eyebrows and grabbed her hand, showing her through the crowd which garnered a few curious looks from the others. They walked in silence until they came out behind a building and a sea of trailers. Tom led her to the one that had his name posted on the door.

The vehicle looked clean and comfortable, though obviously lived in with his normal clothes strewn over the back of a chair and his computer and papers scattered on a tiny writing desk. A kitchenette at the other end was small but efficient. In the center of the room was a plush looking couch and table in front of it. Along the wall facing it was an entertainment system complete with large flat screen.

“Why do you even leave when you have this to live in?” Anna joked, running a finger along the gleaming mahogany paneling. She lowered down onto the couch and crossed her legs as he attempted to remove the sleeveless duster from his costume. 

“I’ve thought about packing up and caravaning for a year all over the place,” he replied. “But then I remember I like running water and electricity and the Internet.”

Anna laughed. “You’ve got it good in here. I’ve had dressing rooms in concert halls way worse than this.”

He chuckled and yanked at his costume, but the duster remained attached to something on his back. He groaned. “Would you mind helping me? They’ll murder me if I rip something.”

Anna stood and walked over to him, standing on her toes to see where it was attached. “I can’t really tell. Can you slide your one arm out?”

Tom set his face as though he were mentally computing a calculus equation and shifted his shoulder, trying to maneuver it into an easier position for extraction. She held on the shoulder and pulled slightly as he finally wiggled free of the arm.

“Ah, there it is,” Anna replied, shifting over to his side and slipping her arm between body and coat to release the part of the duster that had snagged on a metal accent of the main tunic. She began to step back from him, but he had draped an arm around her waist in the process and held her steady. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. He leaned down and kissed her slowly.

She giggled against his mouth. “You just wanted me to get you out of your clothes.”

He grinned. “I’ve made no secret of that fact.”

“Indeed, you haven’t,” Anna replied. She stepped out of his grasp and walked around him, running her hand along his back and grabbing the other side of the coat with her other hand. “Lift your arm up.”

He complied; she removed the coat and set it gingerly aside on the back of a chair. When she turned around, she found him looking at her with that wolfish smile plastered across his face. When he advanced on her, she felt a moment of anxiety, but it was suddenly gone when his lips were on hers. 

She pushed back on him after some time, needing to breathe. He stepped back instantly, running his hands through her hair and twining it back behind an ear. “You good?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “I just needed to breathe.”

He nodded and turned away, walking through the middle of the room toward the kitchen. “Have a seat. I only had time to pick up some little snack foods. We can’t really leave the area with my kit on.”

Anna sunk into the comfortable leather couch, removing her shoes and pulling her legs up beneath her as delicately as possible. “Whatever you got will be fine. Honestly, I’m not incredibly hungry. I was a fixture around the craft services table at the photo shoot.”

He glanced up. “How was it?”

“What? The craft services? Pretty good,” Anna grinned.

“Not the—,” he paused and looked up at her. “You know what I mean.”

“Like any other shoot,” she replied. “They got some pretty amazing pictures... I’m excited to see which ones they’re going to go with on the spread.”

“What publication was it for?”

“This one? It’s for _Glamour_ ,” she said. “One of their human interest stories.”

He chuckled. “Glamour and I go way back. Water or tea?”

“Water,” Anna replied. “And I know. There was a giant picture of you in the lobby. Apparently you’re some highly regarded sex symbol or something. Shall I refer to you as ‘Man of the Year’ now?”

“Oh, goodness,” he said. “I knew that thing was going to come back to haunt me.”

Anna laughed and picked at her dress. “It’s really hard not to gloat about having actually snagged _the_ Man of the Year, especially when they saw me drooling over the picture and started name dropping about all the time they spent with you.”

Tom gathered everything in his hands and precariously balanced them as he came over to the couch. He sat down and placed a tray of cheese, fruit, and crackers on the table. He handed her a water bottle. 

“You drooled?” he teased.

“Only a bit,” she remarked. “We had a long chat about how amazing and sweet and talented and hot you are. It was a good gab fest.”

She noticed the slight tinge of pink on his ears as she continued. He merely leaned over and kissed her.

“Are you that amazing, Tom Hiddleston?” she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders with no little arrogance. “I don’t know. I _am_ Man of the Year, after all. That should be answer enough.”

Anna rolled her eyes in amusement and opened the cap on her water bottle for a drink. “Maybe.”

Tom picked at the food and she watched him for a bit until he sat back in his seat. “So you didn’t tell them?”

“I said I was seeing someone, but that I wasn’t going to say anything specific about it,” she replied. “Most of that conversation was about how difficult it is to get back in the dating saddle, so to speak, after living through all that.”

“Do you have any more interviews?”

“I have an interview with _The Guardian_ tomorrow about the whole Women’s Aid benefit. My last one on Thursday is for _BBC Music Magazine_. Eddie said they were looking at me for one of the Proms concerts in the summer, so it’s sort of a job interview... you know, to see if I’m still crazy or not.”

Tom shot her a censuring look. “You weren’t crazy.”

Anna shrugged. “A little bit.”

“Stop saying it.” He enfolded her in his arms. “You aren’t and you never were.”

She shook her head to get rid of the thoughts threatening to overcome her. Even though she felt unhinged at times when her anxiety overtook her body, it was nice to hear the words of comfort and disagreement from Tom. He _was_ amazing, and she honestly didn’t know what she would have done without him.

“I love you, Tom.” 

Anna realized what she had said all too late and clamped her hands over her mouth as her face grew hot in a blush. God, even though she felt it, she had never intended on...

His lips brushed her temple, and ever so softly, he breathed, “I’m in love with you, too.”

She stiffened and sat back a bit to look at him. “Really?”

“Why are you so surprised?” he asked with a small laugh.

“I just... I thought _I_ was jumping the gun,” Anna replied. “I didn’t plan to just blurt it out like that.”

“But did you mean it?”

Anna nodded her head. “More than anything.”

He grinned. “Good, because I meant it, too. I love you.”

“But I’m so... _so_ messed up.”

“Anna,” he said, pulling her back down to him for a long kiss. “Stop. Accept that I love everything that makes you you, even with the not-so-wonderful stuff. It’s early, but it’s truly how I feel.”

Her face hurt from smiling, but she couldn’t contain her excitement. She had completely forgotten the strange euphoric giddiness that came with these moments. It was frightening and wonderful at the same time, but it felt so, so right.

It was like nothing else mattered at the moment.

So they sat there, listening to the goings on outside the trailer and in the one attached where people were laughing about something. Before long, there was a knock as the door and the long suffering voice of the PA.

“Tom! Fifteen!” Amy called and moved on.

He groaned but didn’t move. “This was way too short.”

“We’ll do it again,” she replied. “Soon.”

“We’re all supposed to go out Friday,” he said. “Family, friends... lovers...”

Anna laughed.

“How about then?”

“That works,” Anna replied. She got up from the couch and began collecting the food and putting it away. He took the time to stand and stretch and replace his duster. When she turned back from closing the fridge, he was back to full Loki. “Your makeup is sort of messed up.”

“They’ll fix it before the next take.” Tom laughed and advanced on her. He hugged her to his chest, lips devouring her. When he had his fill he stepped back and grinned. “Your make up is messed up, too.”

“Oh, lovely,” Anna replied, shifting away to look into the mirror over his writing desk. Her lipstick was smudged, but it wasn’t terrible.

They walked hand-in-hand once outside the trailer toward the set. “Will you stay and watch for a little bit?”

“I have to go home and practice,” she said. “I haven’t done any today.”

He pouted.

“Don’t do that to me again,” she said.

“But I can tell with each pout I’m wearing you down,” he pointed out. 

Anna laughed and playfully nudged him with her shoulder. “Maybe.”

He took her back to the tents from earlier where people were slowly gathering or running around preparing for the next scene. Anna looked up at the man beside her and smiled. “I’m going to go now.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’m going to go be bad.”

She giggled. “Somehow I don’t think that’s a stretch for you.”

“I’m _naughty_ ,” he defended. “I’m _never_ bad.”

Anna stood on her toes once more to reach his lips. “Where do I leave the security badge?”

“Hold on,” he said and left her standing there. He found Amy amongst the PAs milling about doing their work. 

The girl followed him over and gave her a small smile. “I’ll drive you back to the front.”

“Thanks,” Anna said. 

Anna turned to leave, but Tom stopped her with a hand on her arm. He grinningly kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Anna giggled and left him there to endure the good-natured jeers of his workmates. For herself, it was incredibly difficult to crawl back into the golf cart, to hand back her security badge, and step out into the huge crowd waiting for glimpses of the stars, but she was buoyed by the thought of seeing him again at the end of the week, if not before then.


	24. Chapter 24

When he woke up a few days later to what seemed like hundreds of emails and a few phone messages from Luke, Tom didn’t even bother reading or listening to them right away. Of course Luke would make it all sound like the end of the world, but Tom knew without having to verify it that everyone in his life—particularly those who had his public image in their hands—had seen the images the damn paparazzo had snapped the previous evening when he’d briefly met up with Anna for a coffee before going home.

They’d been sitting there having a good conversation about their day’s activities when out of nowhere a flashbulb had flickered in their faces from the other side of the clear window they'd been sitting beside. He remembered the look of anguish on Anna’s face and in her eyes that made his heart sink. It was one he wanted to never see again, one that he wished wasn’t a common occurrence in his life amongst the women in which he was seen in public, whether they were friend, lover, or family member. 

But then he had to remind himself that this time it wasn’t only because of him. It was because of both of their lives, and what had happened in her past, playing a part in making the photo that much more important to a photographer. Perhaps the paparazzo didn’t know that at the time, but Tom felt certain that by now bloggers, reporters, and his intrepid, inquiring fanbase had connected the dots.

The only thing he was thankful about was that it had been one photographer, not a whole group, so it was easy to get past them into a cab and home without being followed or harangued much. One was but a harbinger of what was to come, and it was that maelstrom he feared the most in having a public relationship. The ‘damage’ most certainly had been done and they were definitely, judging from his inbox, no longer in the realm of ‘quietly dating’.

So with resignation, once he’d made himself some tea and toast and felt suitably fortified, he began the process of going through his messages. There were no surprises. Luke said he’d issue the standard ‘no comment,’ even though Tom was reconsidering that. Why couldn’t he say he was dating Anna? It would be better to confirm it than to deny it or say ‘no comment.’ It was insulting to his fans and even more so to Anna to deny through omission. Ignoring it wasn’t going to make the curiosity go away. It would only create more intrusion if he didn’t confirm it, like it was a secret—and there was nothing more titillating to the gossip machine than trying to uncover the truth of a secret with conspiracy theories and misinformation from so-called ‘source’ close to either of them.

The last message on his phone was from Anna. He clicked on the speaker phone and set it on the table beside him as he listened to her. “Hey, Tom. You’re probably still in bed, but I wanted to give you a call. I’m just headed into my appointment this morn—”

She paused and he heard muffled talking on the other end before her voice came back. “Sorry, they just called me back. I wanted to say that Eddie informed me that the pictures from last night were picked up. I hope you haven’t woken up to too much insanity. Anyway, I won’t keep you... I just wanted to say I love you and to make sure everything’s alright on your end. Let me know about the details for tonight’s get together thing. Bye.”

When the call ended, Tom stared at the phone. Now it was going to be impossible to go into work today. Mostly because he heard the note of worry in her voice, as though she were frightened he would want to slow it all down or break it off with her now that they were discovered. As though she thought herself unworthy of his continued attention, or at least that she wasn’t worth all the torment of public intrusion into his life. It made him think of their long conversation at the pub up at her families’ estate last week. She said she was prepared for it in her own life, but she apparently wasn’t so sure he was ready to weather that storm. He blamed himself for that because he didn’t make it abundantly clear that though he was anxious about the whole situation, he wanted nothing more than to go through it with her at his side.

It was difficult to accept this kind of attention in any of his relationships, but having it this early in a relationship also punctuated with other troubles worried him. He knew what his fans could do and had done—he understood the concept that they were in love with him and thus no one he dated would ever be ‘good enough’ for him. He loved them for their protectiveness, but he had never stopped to consider just _how_ much this would bother him simply because he wanted to protect Anna from any possible pain. It must have seemed to her that he just didn’t want to deal with it because of the problems it would cause his own life.

Frankly, he could have cared less what happened to him, so long as she was well and remained in love with him. He wanted to find her and silence that tone of concern and convince her he wasn’t going anywhere she wasn’t going. 

But work called. Literally.

The car service’s number lit up on the phone before the first ring sounded in the quiet kitchen.

“Hello, John,” Tom said.

“Good morning, Mr. Hiddleston,” he said. “Your car is ready.”

Tom sighed. “Alright. I’ll be down quickly.”

He got up from his chair and walked through the flat, grabbing his things as he went. Hopefully he’d have time to sort through some things on the long drive to Shepperton.

\------

When Anna told Dr. Stuart everything that had gone on in the two weeks since they had last seen each other, she knew she had truly shocked him. And it took some time for discussion before she was sure that he wasn’t upset with the giant leaps made during that time. Of course, he was more concerned with how she had handled it, and once he had ascertained that she’d had little trouble—other than the night Tom had grabbed her after the pub—he seemed to relax. She reminded him that this was what he had told her to do by getting out more and challenging herself; he had merely nodded his head with a pleased smile on his lips.

And then with all the talk about what she was facing now with the media interest, Anna had completely forgotten about the fact that Mandy was somewhere in the office and that she had a very obvious connection to Tom. Only when Anna was paying the regular receptionist, did the petite woman pop her head out of the back records room.

“Oh, Anna!” she exclaimed with a sweet, but nervous, smile. “Do you have a moment?”

Anna nodded. “I do.”

“Good,” Mandy replied, motioning for her to follow back into a mail room of sorts where she shut the door. Mandy didn’t waste any time in apologizing profusely. “Anna, I’m so, so sorry about all this. I didn’t know if you were the one Tom was on about, and then I wasn’t sure, but I should have never sat in on that session with you and Dr. Stuart.”

Anna sighed. “I didn’t say anything to Dr. Stuart about it. I was in shock when I first found out, but I...”

“I know,” Mandy said, a blush on her cheeks. “Tom was rather angry at me in our conversation about it on Monday.”

“He didn’t say he’d talked to you yet,” Anna replied.

“I asked him not to say anything,” Mandy said. “I wanted to be the first to apologize for my poor behavior... I never intended... well, I guess I thought it might not work out and that it wouldn’t be such a big deal after a few weeks.”

“Why wouldn’t it work out?” Anna tried to hide her annoyance, but it was impossible. She felt completely affronted at the thought that it wouldn’t work.

But then she had to remind herself, everything _had_ been working against them in the beginning.

“Because being in a relationship with Tom isn’t easy,” Mandy replied as though Anna were stupid. “He is no cupcake, and the way he went about that Cassandra thing... and then there’s all the crazy fans and stuff like that.”

Anna was surprised at her response. “Oh, I thought you meant I would be the cause for it not working out.”

Mandy grabbed her hand. “Goodness me, no! Every week I’ve seen you in here you’re getting more and more... recovered. Look, I’ve known Tom for a long time. Since our undergrad at Cambridge. And he’s a handful. Like a giant ball of spastic energy. He can be tough to handle.”

“Did you two, uh, ever...”

Then Mandy laughed. And she laughed _hard_. “Even if I were straight, he wouldn’t be my first choice... actually, now that I think about it, he wouldn’t be my second or third, either.”

“Oh...” Anna said, letting the words work their way through her brain. “Uh... oh! I’m sorry... I didn’t...”

“That’s quite alright, we don’t know much about each other,” Mandy replied. “But I’m sure we’ll get around to learning a lot about each other eventually.”

Anna grinned. “I’d like that.”

Mandy nodded and sighed. “I’ll have a chat with Dr. Stuart about the future, just so he’s aware of what happened.”

“Thank you, Mandy,” she replied. “And I’ll talk to Tom. He needs to know it’s alright.”

“That would be lovely,” Mandy said.

“Awesome,” Anna said. “I do need to get going, though. I have to meet with the stylist for the concert next week.”

Mandy’s face lit up. “You have a concert? That’s so awesome!”

“It’ll be at the Royal Festival Hall,” I said. “For Women’s Aid. I’m a little nervous about it.”

Mandy rested a comforting hand on her arm. “Anna, I know you’ll be wonderful. Are there still tickets left? I’d love to come. Is Tom going?”

Anna felt herself shrug. “You know, I don’t know.”

She hadn’t really asked him to come—it seemed impossible with his long working hours, and she hadn’t even really considered whether he would be there or not. She wanted him there more than anything in the world; she wanted to see his smiling face in the crowd. And if she were to feel an anxiety attack coming on, Tom would be there to comfort her. Just having him there would have been like having the best kind of security blanket. But now she realized she hadn’t asked him, and also realized that there was a possibility—a rather huge one—that he wouldn’t come next week. The thought made her mouth go dry.

“I didn’t ask him,” Anna said. “I just expected him to... I think I should probably ask him.”

Mandy nodded and smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure he’ll be there, love. I’ll check to see if there are tickets. I would love to see you perform.”

Anna tried to smile back, but her stomach clenched in nervousness. “Alright, I should be going.”

Mandy showed her out and bade her farewells, leaving Anna alone to her thoughts as she stepped out onto the busy London street and picked her way through the crowd to the tube entrance. She knew she had to ask Tom, but she didn’t know if she wanted the answer that would come. There was a high possibility he wouldn’t make it because of his schedule, and an even higher one that he wouldn’t be ready to do an official public outing together this soon.

If she were honest with herself, she didn’t even know if _she_ were ready for that.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Anna continued on her way. It would be a conversation for later when they had time to talk in private. She had errands to run and a get together with his friends and colleagues to prepare for. As her first real introduction into that life, she was anxious but couldn’t wait.

\----

There were several advantages to being tall. One could reach things from high spaces. One could make clothing look amazing. And one could see over the heads of others when on the lookout for someone else. Tom had been watching the door since he’d arrived with the others, waiting for Anna to make her appearance. She said in a text that she was running behind in a meeting of some sort and that she’d be there as soon as possible, but after an hour or so, he began to get worried. He was not unaware that there were a few paparazzi hanging out outside the doors of the pub; with the star clientele tonight, it was to be expected. He sincerely hoped she hadn’t taken one look at it and turned right back around.

So he tried to involve himself in the conversations going on around him, sipping his Guinness and fingering the mobile in his pocket, contemplating calling her. As he neared the bottom of his pint glass, and had nothing but foam left, he had nearly talked himself into giving her a call, but stopped himself when flashes of light caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

The door opened and she blew in, looking wonderful in a pair of rear-hugging jeans tucked into knee-length boots. Her brown eyes scanned the establishment, stopped on him and lit up as she smiled. At least she didn’t seem sad. As a matter of fact, she seemed happy and excited.

“Hi,” she said, joining his side. He leaned down to meet her in a kiss. “Sorry I’m late. I had a lesson that was late and then a meeting about next week. My schedule is all messed up with everything going on. Oh, and then the train was delayed.”

“No worries,” he replied.

She reached up and pulled her scarf and coat off, revealing a rather delectable sleeveless top that dipped very low on her back.

Low enough that he could not only see the remnants of the scars on her shoulder, but also ones that extended further down her back that he’d never seen before and disappeared into the fabric. A bitter taste filled his mouth that had nothing to do with the stout he’d consumed. He saw nothing but a red rage; he wanted to find the man who had done this to her and tear him apart. The abject violence he wished to commit shocked his sensibilities, but he couldn’t help but feel protective around Anna.

And the alcohol wasn’t helping. He always liked to fight when he drank any kind of beer; it precipitated a change in beverages.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

Anna smiled up at him. “Ginger ale.”

“Always?” he asked.

“Nine times out of ten, that’s what I’ll have,” she giggled.

“Anna!” Chris’ booming voice interrupted their conversation. 

“Quit hogging her, Tom. You get her all the time,” Elsa spoke beside his elbow. The woman smiled at Anna. “Anna, dear, let me take you around.”

Anna’s amused gaze flicked up to him as she allowed Elsa to pull her in the opposite direction. He hated to say it, but she was fresh meat, and between the group of them that knew each other so well, she would be the center of attention for a bit. Especially if it meant they could all tease him about what a lovesick fool he was.

By the time he’d secured Anna her ginger ale and hobbled back over, she was sitting in a booth surrounded by people, looking small and fragile, but she was holding her own. He could see in her eyes that she was quickly reaching her limit of interaction, but she merely smiled at them and listened in until attention was pulled in another direction. When she was able, she got up from her seat and joined his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. He glanced down at her with a goofy grin and hugged her close to his body, burying his nose in her hair and kissing the top of her head.

She sighed pleasantly and remained in the spot at his side for the rest of the night, which pleased him deeply. Even so, she seemed to be rather quiet, even around him. It worried him, although it wasn’t enough to make him question her. She was prone to these pensive and melancholic moods, and she didn’t seem to be going into a panic attack, but he watched her closely throughout the rest of the evening.

Everyone began trickling out of the pub by midnight, some rather inebriated and others completely exhausted after the difficult week-long shooting schedule. Tom felt a mixture of both, but was standing upright and awake, so he attempted to prolong the time out with Anna as long as possible. 

Frankly, there was no sense in ending what had turned into such a lovely night with friends. 

They took a cab to her building and they rode the lift in silence to her floor, dawdling down the long hallway toward her door. When they finally reached the door and she unlocked and pushed it open, she turned to look up at him, her brown eyes large in the faint corridor light. She blinked then blushed. “Would you like to come in for tea?”

Tom couldn’t help but smile at her suggestion. “I don’t know,” he replied quietly. “Are we talking ‘tea’ or are we talking _tea_?”

She shrugged her answer. “I need to talk to you about a few things. Tea might be needed to fortify the situation.”

“No,” he said flatly, “I’m going to need something stronger than tea from the sound of that.”

Anna laughed and tugged him inside the flat. She dropped her purse on the side table and removed her coat and scarf again, hanging them on a peg by the front door. “Get comfortable.”

He followed her instructions obediently and trailed her back into the kitchen. She filled a kettle with water while he sat in one of the wooden chairs. “Alright, why are you being so cryptic? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I just... I spoke with Mandy at Dr. Stuart’s office today. We’re good, by the way... but I realized I didn’t ask you about the concert next week. Would you like to be my guest? I guess I just didn’t know if you’d want to make it official by going to an event together or not. Or if you even _wanted_ to come to a boring symphonic concert or not.”

Tom blew all the air from his lungs in a surprised—yet relieved—laugh. “That’s what this is all about?”

“Yeah?” she frowned.

“Anna, come here,” he said softly. She reluctantly moved across the kitchen to him, allowing him to reach an arm around her to pull her down into his lap.

“What?” she asked in a quiet voice, hanging an arm around his neck for balance.

He smiled. “I would love to be there and I intend to be there—you didn’t even have to ask. However, I can’t guarantee my attendance. With filming the way it’s been trying to cram everything in, I could be working that day.”

“Oh,” she said.

“But,” he replied. “As of right now, I have nothing scheduled and I will be there with bells on. I just don’t want you to worry if I’m not.”

Anna frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. “That’s what I’m worried about... I’m worried that I won’t be able to do it, and you have this way about that just... I don’t know, it just calms me whenever you’re around.”

Tom’s chest clenched at her words, knowing what she meant, wishing he could commit completely to being there for her. It nearly killed him to let her down in this way, but he had other commitments and this wasn’t going to be the only time something like this happened. Especially if they were both going to be far flung across the globe with him on movie sets and her on tours.

“Darling, I’ll try,” he replied, stretching up to kiss her. “I promise I’ll try.”

Anna’s lips curled into a small smile as the kettle began to whistle lowly. “I know you will.”

She got up from her seat, leaving his arms empty and wanting, but worked through concocting tea in two porcelain cups without saying anything else. When she was in the seat across from him at the table and sipping her tea, she finally broke the silence.

“Will you stay the night?” she asked. “Do you have to film tomorrow?”

“I don’t have any filming tomorrow, and I wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon,” he said.

Her face colored in a soft blush. “Sleep only, though. I’m exhausted.”

As much as he wanted to protest, his own body knew the truth of it. Even if he wanted to make love, he wasn’t entirely certain his body would cooperate with him. He was physically and mentally spent after this week. He intended to make a good impression the first time, and it only would have been sloppy if he pushed himself to perform.

“Sleep,” he said with a yawn. “It’s been a long week.”

Anna simply chuckled and nodded her head in agreement.

Still, it was still the most difficult thing in the world to ignore his needs as he, about a half hour later, crawled into her bed and quickly fell asleep with her in his arms.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be some smut. You've been warned.

Anna’s body groaned and protested when she snuck out of bed the following morning. As much as she wanted to stay in the warm cocoon in her handsome bedmate’s arms, there were things she had to accomplish before he woke up and took all of her attention as he was so prone to do. 

His filming schedule would not require him to be on set until Monday, anyway, so she thought she’d be nice and let the man sleep. Despite his natural energy, she had seen the exhaustion in his eyes after this week as they sat down to tea before going to bed last night. Of course, she knew not all of it belonged to physical exhaustion, but also the mental kind that came with having to deal with the suddenness of their relationship becoming front page news. It had only been a day since then and already Eddie’d had to decline dozens of interview requests on her end. She could only imagine what Tom had been through. 

With a glance back at the sleeping man as he repositioned in his slumber to lay on his back, Anna grabbed her warm robe and wrapped it around her tank top covered shoulders. Tom looked so innocent laying there, like a child without a care in the world. Her ex husband had never looked so peaceful. Not even at rest did he appear innocent or unintimidating; Anna wondered what she had ever seen in that man to begin with besides his flashiness and aptitude for falsely raising her up for the eventual tear down. She’d been so blindsided by naïveté and the yearning for love from a man, she’d very firmly attached blinders where he had been concerned.

This time, it was completely different. She knew what she wanted and what she needed. She knew that despite the bumps in the road at the beginning, she couldn’t find a better man for her than Tom.

Tom certainly was the complete opposite of anything she knew, in the way he behaved with the people in his life and in the way he acted with her; the way he treated her was something so foreign and yet so welcome. He wasn’t superficial. He wasn’t putting on a show all the time; he put on the show whenever he was on the job and then put it all away in a neat compartment whenever they were together. He was real and wonderful and something she felt, perhaps, she did not quite deserve, but she was over the moon to have him nonetheless. 

A grin involuntarily stretched her lips. She was so in love with him it made her sick with want, but the ferocity of it also terrified her. She’d seen less brilliant flames blow up in monumental explosions of anger, hate, and hurt feelings. What would happen if she were burned this time?

The disturbing thought trickled through her mind as she desperately tried to squelch it. Thinking about it was her problem. Overanalyzing. Jumping to conclusions. Thinking the worst. It was a perfect storm for anxiety and panic disorders everywhere. It was the reason she had locked herself away from the world for two years, playing into those worries created by the What Ifs. She refused to let it take root. Anna sighed and shook her head to clear it. 

She continued to the bathroom to freshen up before heading into the practice room. She hoped the soundproofing muffled the sound enough that it wouldn’t bother Tom, but even if it wasn’t perfectly silent, she had noticed in the two times they had shared the same bed that he’d been a rather heavy sleeper. 

After some stretching and tuning adjustments on her violin, she began her practice. She was well into the second movement when she heard a soft click behind her. Tom stood in the doorway, resting against the jamb with his arms crossed over his bare chest. He’d replaced his jeans from last night, but they were rumpled. He also hadn’t taken time to comb his wildly curly hair. Even though he always seemed to look so put together, Anna giggled at his now disheveled appearance. As scrawny, pale and pigeon-chested as he was, it was still sexier than him in a three piece suit. She had an inkling that he knew he was still absolutely delectable, even with the crazy hair. And he was using such confidence to the best of his ability to tempt her.

“Don’t stop,” he said, watching her fingers on the strings.

She shook her head. “Wasn’t planning on it. Sit.”

He complied with her wishes and quickly occupied the seat he’d used during his lesson a few weeks ago. Anna turned aside to focus on her music, but found her eyes drifting back to the man who now raised a hand to run his long fingers through his wild curls. He yawned again and drug his fingers down to rub his left eye. He blinked rapidly as though trying to focus on her, but his eyes were too blurry to do so. When he realized she was watching him, a slow grin spread across his face. He scratched at his chest, just under his right nipple.

The bow in her hand slipped from her fingers, mashing across the strings and creating a jarring, dissonant squeal of different notes. Anna fumbled and attempted to catch the thing, but they both watched it tumble to the carpeted floor, he in complete in amusement, and her in mortification. And then she stared at it, not knowing what to do or think. Never in her life had she allowed herself to become so distracted that something like this had happened.

Especially not on one of the pieces of music that had become so second nature to her throughout her career.

“Alright, new rule,” she muttered. “You must be fully clothed to enter the practice room.”

His response was only to cackle. Anna bent down to pick up the bow, having a look over it to make certain that it hadn’t been terribly damaged in the fall. She sighed after completing the inspection, but any drive she’d had to practice fled away when she glanced back up at the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“I promise I’ll be good,” he said. “Keep playing.”

Anna shook her head. “I can’t concentrate on it. Not with you there.”

“I’ll leave then.” He began to stand up, but Anna reached out, resting a hand on his shoulder to push him back down.

“No! Stay,” she said, not knowing exactly what she was doing. Of course she never wanted him to leave, but she knew she had to practice. Quickly deciding that there would be time for practicing later when Tom returned to work, she set the bow down on the music rack of the upright piano beside them.

“How are you going to be able to concentrate the night of the gala if I’m there?” he asked.

“That’s different,” she replied.

“How so?”

Anna pursed her lips. “It’s not just you then. I’ll concentrate on someone else.”

He seemed appeased with that answer. “But at least I finally got to hear you play this morning.”

“Mendelssohn is better with the full orchestra,” she said with a shrug.

“It was stunning without,” he replied.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

He shook his head. “I was awake when you got out of bed. I was just trying to fight it.”

“Ah,” she laughed, setting the violin on the stand behind her. “Still, sorry.”

“While I would have liked you stay in bed with me,” he said, “listening to you was amazing. You should have just played for me at my lesson a few weeks ago.”

“I don’t play for my students unless I’m showing them how to do something. They’re here to learn, not to watch someone else do it,” she replied.

He chuckled and grabbed hold of her hand, slowly pulling her over to him. “Of course they are.”

“And since we’re here,” she teased, “I should give you that test I threatened you with at your last lesson.”

A low growl emanated from his throat. “You’re awfully cheeky this morning.”

“I woke up on the right side of the bed.”

He laughed, but quickly turned it into a mock frown. “Didn’t you give me the pop quiz last time, though?”

“Which you failed miserably?” she asked.

“I didn’t fail...” Tom pursed his lips together and tried to look affronted, but ultimately failed that, as well, when he burst into laughter. “Okay, maybe a little, but in my defense...”

Anna waved a finger at him and shook her head. “Nuh-uh. It’s not my fault you were distracted.”

“How could I not be distracted by you?” he asked. “I suppose it’s somewhat like you not being able to play because I’m here.”

“I didn’t show up to your lesson half-clothed,” she protested.

He grinned. “You didn’t have to show up half-clothed. I had naughty school teacher thoughts going through my head the whole time. You’re rather sexy when you teach.”

“Am I?” she asked.

“You are,” he replied.

She bent over and lightly kissed his lips. “You’re not going to get out of the essay.”

“Aw! Come on, Miss Celeste,” he cried.

“I said there would be an essay involved, so there will be,” Anna reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. She loved the texture of it, soft but slightly wiry in some spots. 

His eyelids fluttered closed for a brief minute as she lightly massaged his scalp and then opened them to reveal his brilliant blue gaze.

“The pop quiz was additional,” she added.

“You can’t just change the rules like that,” he said.

“Yes, I can.” Anna was completely serious but could barely maintain a straight face at his surprise. “I’m the teacher. It’s my prerogative.”

He made a small harrumph of displeasure as his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer.

“Would you settle for a verbal recitation instead of a written essay? I have to admit that my memory from that day is rather hazy. The bits that I remember wouldn’t be worth writing in an essay.”

Anna couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m sure you could find something to write about.”

He pouted. 

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Alright, fine, recitation.”

His grin was devious. “I remember something about you calling me a Neanderthal.”

“I did,” Anna confirmed. “I’ve not entirely reached the conclusion that you aren’t.”

“Then let me show you that I’m not?” he asked.

“I’m sure it will be illuminating,” she said. “Show me.”

Anna knew in that instant where her intended this teasing to go. The moment to be scared and run away from the situation had long since passed, and she hadn’t even realized it. For the first time in since, well, _ever_ , that familiar oppression of anxiety and second guessing herself had never appeared. Relief made her sigh and sag against him.

He looked up at her with concern etching his face.

“I’m fine,” Anna smiled, bending to kiss him again. She knew this man would take care of her, just as she would take care of him. 

Excitement surged through her body when his hands rested on her hips as they moved her into a position to stand before him. She watched him, trying to figure out what he planned to do next; honestly, he could have done anything he wanted. She was putty in his hands.

“You said something about how I grabbed the bow like a club,” he said. “And I only realized up on holiday with you that I do have a tendency to do that in several different areas of my life. I just grab for things and expect that it’ll be appreciated.”

Anna gave him a sad chuckle, remembering the massive attack she’d had up north when he’d grabbed her.

“I forget that not everyone is like me,” he explained. “Some things require a gentler approach.”

“Indeed they do,” Anna said, barely above a whisper. She swallowed.

“Just like the bow,” he said t bring them back to “task” at hand.

“And what is the correct way to hold your bow?” she asked.

He smiled an irresistibly devastating grin. “It requires a bit of finesse, you see.” His long-fingered hands laid on her hips again, burning an imprint through the layers of robe, pajama bottoms and knickers beneath. “You hold very lightly, with your fingers across the top, using the little finger to counterbalance the weight.”

“Good,” she said. “And what about holding the violin?”

The mirth in his gaze was now heady and wanting as fingers lightly clenched the fabric and slipped around her hips to rest on her rear. “You hold it on your shoulder between nine and ten, but closer to nine.”

She laughed. His hands dropped lower to the back of her thighs.

“But you wouldn’t let me touch the strings,” he said, “so I had to hold the body near the fingerboard.”

“True,” she said.

He applied very little force, making her take a step forward. She had nowhere else to go with the constant, gentle pressure other than to sit on his lap. Anna froze for a moment, looking first at his lap, and then at his face. Determination knit his brow, but a sudden softness spread across his features. “We could stop the testing now, if you’d like. But you’re the teacher. You have to make the decision.”

Anna bit her lip and shook her head. “No.”

He waited for her.

She very carefully reached out to place her hands on the warm, smooth flesh on his shoulder, digging her fingers into the taught, lean sinew beneath. “I also said to sit up straight. No slouching.”

“Yes, of course,” he said through a roguish grin. 

Anna used her hold on his shoulders as leverage to place a leg on either side of him and lower herself onto his thighs. She sat as far back from the seat of his pelvis as she could manage; nearly on his knees, she looked at him expectantly. “This is all very good. But you forgot something very important.”

“What is that?” His voice filled with amusement, but it had become lower in timbre. Suggestive. Wanting.

“You forgot to take the violin out of the case,” she replied.

The response stunned him into silence, so much so that Anna was certain she could drop a pin and hear it in the room. That was until one of his eyebrows rose in question. “Are you sure?”

Anna shrugged.

Tom reached up and entwined his fingers in her hair, tugging slightly to pull her down for a kiss that instantly pooled heat between her thighs. He shifted back, looking her over carefully. 

“I’ll need more than a shrug, my love.” His lips recaptured hers, demanding a solid answer.

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly against his mouth. She had absolutely no desire to back out of his embrace. Not now. Not ever.

His hands were at her waist again, working at the loose tie on her robe. He pushed it from her body as though it were nothing; the whisper of the cloth bunching on the ground filled the otherwise quiet room. Soft lips nibbled at her now bare neck, unbearably light and teasing. The backs of his fingers ghosted over the sides of her cloth-covered breasts on their trek lower; her breasts surged at the intimacy of the touch but screamed for more attention than he had given them. She wanted _more_.

The tips of his roughened fingers played at the hem of her shirt, pushing beneath the fabric and skating up her back, sending a new warmth throughout her body. Anna sighed into the touch as he kneaded her shoulders before taking the tank top over her head; the elastic holding her hair caught and flew off with the article of clothing. The chilliness of the room made her shiver and her nipples tighten. His large, hot hands burned into her flesh as they traveled a path around her ribcage and further south to her hips where they suddenly stilled and gripped onto her so she could not move.

Anna shifted her weight back to look at him, only then realizing his eyes were on the ugly scars on her left arm and down her side. A zing of self-consciousness flooded her and she reached up to cover herself, but he stopped her, his hold firm but not entirely restrictive. She had no choice but to let him look. This was the moment she had been dreading above all others. These marks were the physical manifestation of her internal pain. She had for so long worried that if she were ever with another man, they’d find it unattractive and leave her cold.

Tom did none of that. A flame of anger filled the blue depths of his eyes, but it quickly subsided and was replaced with that familiar expression of need and want.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. One of the worst parts was over. 

“You are beautiful, Anna,” he purred, hands on her rear, pulling her along his still jean-clad thighs to rest against him. He was warm and smooth and hard against her, the noticeable bulge in his jeans pressing against her most sensitive part. She couldn’t ignore the unrelenting need to grind against him at the sudden pressure on her center, as tantalizing and exciting as it was. This action drew a hiss from his lips. His jaw clenched and his eyes shut for a brief moment.

She leaned in to kiss him, tracing her hands from his shoulders down his chest, clawing lightly at the taut, pale skin. Reaching his abdomen, she could barely touch the top button of his jeans, but with a little effort flicked the silver button out of the button hole. Still, she knew she wouldn’t be able to manage the zipper without moving away... and at the moment, that was the last option on her list of what she wanted to happen.

His lips pressed against her jaw, then her clavicle, searing a path toward the puckered, rosy tip of one breast; his morning beard grazed and teased and rubbed against her skin. She gasped and dug her fingers into his arms for leverage as he sucked the hardened nub carefully through his teeth, laving his tongue against the pebbled flesh and then blowing lightly on the moistened area. The strong hands on her hips slipped further behind, holding her in place against him as her brain short-circuited and shot a cue to her lower half to buck against the hardness covered in denim.

A slow, keening mewl formed on her lips as he moved on to the other breast, eliciting the same reaction. Anna curled her arms around his neck as he suckled; that mouth could do amazing things. She felt completely powerless to resist it, and chose to give into him them, completely and utterly. 

He shifted back long enough to kiss her lips again. Anna pushed on him to sit nearer his knees, trying to find the moment to finish the task of undoing his jeans. She reached out for the zipper but had to stop when his hands were on her, slithering lower down her belly and into the waist of her pajama bottoms and knickers. Fingers teased at her center at the awkward angle, stealing her breath and any kind of forward thinking ability from her. It was all she could do to not over balance and fall from her perch as he rubbed and stroked, expertly, firmly, not too hard, and not too soft. One finger, then two... his thumb circled the taut bundle of nerves.

“Oh, Tom,” she heard herself mutter between gasps of air. A low groaning, pleased chuckle left his mouth as he increased the pressure of his ministrations.

Her orgasm surprised her at its sudden coiling in her belly and spring of release. She writhed against his magical long-fingered hand, searching for the ultimate pleasure, needing to expend the energy built up inside her and pressing against her center. Moving her hips with his hands, she reached the pinnacle and toppled over, grabbing onto him to keep her tethered to the world and to him.

As the euphoric spasms of her body finally abated, and she was left trying to seeing straight, she focused on the man beneath her and the fact the he was watching her closely.

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“You are beautiful,” he repeated his sentiment from earlier.

Anna felt the added heat of a flush on her face and neck.

He kissed her, long and slow, curling her toes and making her heart speed up once more to hammer against her ribcage. After a moment he broke away and looked at her. “So, Miss Celeste, did I pass the recitation?”

She laughed. “We know you can play the violinist... but I’m still not sure about the violin.”

Tom laughed throatily, pressing his lips to the column of her slick, lightly perspiring neck. “The violin will come in time, I’m certain. It will require much more practice.”

She shook with laughter, running her fingers again through his hair, pulling at the short strands at the back to make him look up at her. “How much more?”

“Well,” he said, “at least once every day and twice on Sundays. With that regimen, I should have it down by the time I’m eighty.”

“You’re a rather slow learner,” she teased.

He shrugged. “I expect nothing less than perfection from myself. It will take me awhile.”

“Only from yourself?” her brow rose in question.

“You’re already perfect,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, but brushed his mouth with hers again. Snaking her hand between them, she reached for the fly of his jeans, but he stopped her. “Why won’t you let me...”

He grinned wolfishly. “I will, but...”

Tom somehow maneuvered her to stand up and followed after her. He leaned down, drawing her to him and his intoxicating lips again.

“But what?” she asked.

“I intend to do the next part properly on a surface that allows more mobility,” he said. Taking a hold of her hand, he led her from the room and down the hallway to the bedroom.

Anna realized, with a contented smile on her lips, that she couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There comes a time in every fiction writer's life where we've imagined and re-written the same thing a million different ways and can never be satisfied with it. Sometimes you just have to let it go, post it, and move on. I've not written a lemon in a very long time, but I hope this is somewhat up to snuff as it is a needed scene in the progression of Anna's "recovery".


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy fluffiness. After this chapter, we have one more to round it all out. Thank you all for the support!

Two very short days later, Tom woke to a dark room, a screeching alarm, and a beautiful, nude woman stretched out in the bed beside him. He grumbled and groaned as he searched blindly for the mobile sitting on the table beside his bed. When he found it, he silenced the evil device and attempted to curl back into the covers for another five minutes of sleep and time with his lover before he absolutely could not stay in bed any longer.

“What was that?” asked the small, sleepy voice beside him. She curled against himn pressing her warm curves more securely against his body.

“My alarm,” he replied.

She made a small sound of acknowledgement, but seemed to be half asleep. He wrapped his arms around her, flattening his palms and fingers on her back as he slipped them down her velvet skin. Humming lowly, she pressed her lips to his bare chest.

“What time is it?”

“Four,” he said.

“In the morning?” she asked.

He chuckled, brushing his lips against her cheek and ear. “Yes.”

“When is your call?”

“Not until seven,” he replied. “But I usually take my run in the morning.”

“You’re crazy,” she muttered and yawned.

He laughed. “Some say so.”

She didn’t reply, but he could tell rather quickly that her breathing pattern had changed again and she had fallen back into slumber, which was exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to sleep, relax and have as long of a lie in as she could manage before leaving that morning; she would need all the energy in the world to accompany him to his ‘thing’ that night, and he had not given her much time to recuperate since the relationship had yet again changed for them.

At least this was a good change. No... an _amazing_ change. They had both needed to take this step, even though it was for radically different reasons, but it had done them a world of good as a couple who were on precarious footing. It solidified and cleared a few things up that both of them had been wondering—and it had given Anna a remarkable amount of confidence in such a short time.

He had been completely blindsided by just _how_ much she had blossomed in a few days time; how much further out of her protective shell she had come. It gave him a heady sense of accomplishment, but also of awe, to know that he had been a part of that change. Of course Anna was mostly the person who had chosen to take that step—to reclaim that piece of her life once more—but he had facilitated it and he was more than pleased with the results.

His second alarm went off in the periphery of his thoughts and he reached for the mobile again. After switching it off, he carefully extricated himself from bed, pulled up the thick blanket that had been kicked off sometime earlier to cover her, and went about his morning activities. He showered and dressed, deciding that he would forego the run today.

He’d had enough exercise this weekend, after all. The thought made him smile as he went out to the kitchen to make himself some coffee and toast. An hour or so later, as he was still reading through his emails, the car company called to say they were downstairs.

Tom sighed and went back to the bedroom where Anna was still sound asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over her, kissing her lips. She moaned and batted him away.

“Darling,” he said, coaxing her awake.

She blinked and squinted into the sliver of light coming in through the doorway. “Huh? Wha?”

“Sorry to wake you again,” he replied. “I’ve got to head out now. Sleep as long as you’d like. I’ll leave my key so you can lock up on your way out. I’ll get it back from you tonight when we go to the premiere.”

“Uh-huh,” she said.

“I’ll be at your flat by 6:30,” he said.

“Okay,” she replied. “Will you text me? I’ll forget.”

“Of course.” Tom laughed and leaned down to kiss her again before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Good bye,” she said. “I love you.”

Tom couldn’t removed the stupid smile from his face at hearing the words again. It never failed. Every single time those words came out of her lips he grinned like a loon; he didn’t even care if it was a little early to be saying such things. With her in it, his life felt complete in a way he had never expected. 

Of course, there was the chance it was because they were still in the honeymoon stage of their romance, but he knew without a doubt that he’d never felt for her what he had for others in his life. Perhaps it was because of the fact in their very short time together they had been through so much, learned so much, and done so much together that they were much more along than other couples at this stage in a relationship. He honestly didn’t know the answer, but nothing was going to change his mind about her.

With that thought, Tom closed the door to his bedroom and gathered the garment bag with his suit in it for later and headed for the door.

\----

When the car slowed to a stop outside of Anna’s building many hours later, Tom had not prepared himself for what he would find. 

Luke, who had ridden in the car with him, chattered in his ear about how he would like to handle something or other—probably something about his and Anna’s relationship and what showing up on the red carpet would do in the small and large scale publicity-wise. It would confirm the existence of a woman in his life to those who were questioning it, and then ignite an even larger flame of curiosity about Anna and her past. She had said last night, when he had asked if she’d like to go with him, she could handle the attention for the night.

From the looks of things, she hadn’t been lying.

She was just coming out of the lobby door where she had presumably been waiting for him after he’d messaged to say they were running late. If he’d thought she’d looked confident and powerful and utterly beautiful that night of his sister’s premiere, he had been so woefully mistaken. That very strange, very electric charisma she seemed to exude when presented with the spotlight was back, but this time even more prominent and intoxicating than before.

The bright red dress that hugged every single one of her curves and showcased the porcelain smoothness of her slightly tanned skin would be the death of him. This costume required nothing less than supreme confidence to wear for all the skin it showed, especially when he realized it would highlight many of her scars. He at once rejoiced that she felt so wonderful that she could pull off this amazing piece of clothing, but also lamented at the fact that he would be beating men off with a stick.

She grinned at him, a line of straight white teeth appearing between full red lips. He jumped out of the car and kissed her before either of them said anything. Anna laughed as he pulled away. “Wow, hi,” she said.

He smiled. “Hello. You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I had a real meltdown trying to decide what to wear.”

“Meltdown?”

Anna nodded. “Not that kind... well, it could have been that kind, but it was just normal girl fretting about not having anything to wear. Luckily my stylist visit for Saturday’s performance was this afternoon, so they let me keep this for tonight.”

“They wanted you to wear _that_ on stage?” he asked incredulously. “Since when do concert violinists wear clothing like that? I would probably go to more if they did...”

She giggled. “I don’t wear short dresses at concert usually. They brought it for the dinner and party afterward. But I went with another one.”

“With one equally as revealing?” He felt conflicted. He was hopeful that she would choose one like it because her body was amazing and he liked to see her shine confidently when she wore them, but on the other hand, loathed it. “I need to know if I should be prepared to fight guys off of you.”

At his compliment, Anna turned a delightful shade of red to match her dress. “I’ll show you a photo in the car... we’re late... and Luke is hanging out the door giving us a look.”

Tom frowned and looked behind him to find his publicist tapping his watch. He grabbed Anna’s hand and showed her into the car. Once they were settled and the driver had pulled back out onto the street, Tom looked between his friend and girlfriend. “Anna, meet Luke. Luke, Anna.”

Both shook hands. Luke gave her a small smile. “So you’re the one giving me all the work.”

“You sound like my manager,” Anna joked.

“Have you warned him about tonight?” Luke asked.

Anna nodded. “You should have seen the eyes bulge out of his head.”

Tom laughed and looked to his friend. “Luke nearly hyperventilated.”

“I did not!” the man protested. “You see, Anna, he’s like a hyperactive child. He’s all over the place and we’re just discussing things like two normal human beings earlier today and then out of nowhere, without warning, drops bombs on me. ‘Oh, yeah, Anna’s coming with tonight. Sorry I didn’t tell you.’ It’s maddening.”

“I can see that,” Anna agreed. Tom frowned. He didn’t like this ganging up on him.

Luke smiled. “But we’re good if you’re good tonight...”

“I’m actually pretty great for a change,” Anna replied.

“Wonderful,” he replied.

Tom entwined his fingers with her hand that lay on the seat between them. He lifted it up, brushing his lips across the back of her knuckles. “I’m not going to be doing any interviews tonight, but there’ll be pictures.”

“I know how it works.” Anna’s smile was small and knowing. 

Tom chuckled. “So you do.”

“I’ll just hang back with Luke and the handler at the theater,” she said. “You need to do your thing.”

“There’ll probably be fans there and I’ll do autographs and such with them,” he explained. “I just want you to be prepared... I don’t know what they’ll do.”

Anna turned slightly in her seat to look at him dead on; he was concerned by the seriousness in her eyes, but didn’t voice it as she spoke. “Tom, please don’t worry about me. This isn’t my first rodeo. I come from the land of the paparazzi.”

He sighed and shook his head. It was so easy to forget who she was, where she came from and what life she had lived. The fact of the matter was she had been doing the celebrity thing, even if it was mostly in small doses, for much longer than he had. However, it still didn’t allay his fears about her anxiety. The red carpet was a scary place, even for him. But he knew he had to trust that she knew her limitations.

When they reached Leicester Square and the madhouse that was a major movie premiere, Tom took a breath and glanced once more at Anna. She gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

He nodded and slipped out of the car to the sound of excited shouting and flashbulbs in his face. After the initial blinding moment, he sighed, buttoned the button on his jacket and turned around to look for Anna. Luke was in his way as he had exited the car behind him, but shifted out of the way. The driver had jumped out to help Anna from her side of the car so that she did not have to slide.

The blonde head popped up, followed by her body. She thanked the driver with a nod of her head, ran her hands across her shoulders, repositioning her long lace sleeves on the curve of her shoulders. As she walked around the car, her hands moved to her hips, smoothing out the material of the skin-like miniskirt. Anna glanced up at him, her expressionless face suddenly alighting with a brilliant smile.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” she said softly as she stepped up beside him on the curb.

“And why not?” he asked.

Anna shrugged and leaned into him. “We might not make it to the movie, then.”

He pursed his lips and looked forward, dropping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him so he could kiss her forehead. “Don’t tempt me.”

She giggled. “I wouldn’t dare.”

That was when the press finally recognized that the woman beside him wasn’t just some girl who had either come as a friend or as an additional handler for the night. In a flurry of flashbulbs and shouting, Anna plastered on her largest, brightest smile, brushed a few wisps of blonde hair from her eyes back into the longer strands. With a square of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts became more visible to him; he had to turn away lest he make a fool of himself. She sighed and stood tall. She was ready for battle.

They made it onto carpet where they posed for a few photos together, but it didn’t last long. Photographers were shouting for shots of her alone. She glanced up at him with an apologetic shrug and moved to the side.

Tom felt, for the first time ever, the loneliness of being on the red carpet, despite the fact that he had for quite awhile now been going stag to these things. Sure, Luke was usually always there, off in the periphery working his voodoo to make sure everyone went where they were supposed to. But this was different. Tom supposed it was because he never missed what he hadn’t had before, and now that he had it, it was all too easy to miss even if she were only a few arm’s lengths away.

He tried to remain interested in the wall of photographers in front of him, but was all too glad when Luke came up with the event handler to usher him along. Tom slipped up beside Anna, resting a hand on her lower back. She turned to look at him.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m a little blind. I should have worn sunglasses.”

Tom chuckled and wrapped his arm around her again. Luke leaned into him. “We only have a little bit of time before the movie for autographs. No photos.”

“Go,” Anna said when he looked at her. “Be your amazing charismatic self.”

He laughed and left her to follow Luke toward a group of fans who had come to see the movie he wasn’t even in. Tom tried to ignore the fact that somewhere behind him he could hear Anna’s unmistakable American accent as she talked with someone about how huge this all was. He’d been a part of many blockbusters, and the spectacle of a big premiere like this still mesmerized him. He knew exactly how she felt.

He successfully worked his way down the line of people, signing pictures and souvenirs as they were thrust in his face. Flashes of small point-and-shoot cameras went off in his eyes, but he blinked and kept on moving. He knew he only had a limited amount of time, and Luke was always at his shoulder to keep him on schedule.

Tom was just reaching the end of the group and in the middle of signing a Loki portrait when the clearly outspoken young woman in front of him asked, “Is that your girlfriend?”

Tom started at the question and began to deny it, but he then remembered that yes, the woman behind him was his girlfriend, and there was no point in denying it now. “It is.”

“She’s more beautiful than the pictures online,” said the girl reverently.

He tried to smile happily, but shifted beneath his coat uncomfortably. He understood that with this life came the interest, but it was never easy to hear his fans talk so openly about it. The sad fact was that they all, by now at least, probably knew more about her than he did. They’d likely gone through Wikipedia and her website and all the other stuff online about her and her ex-husband. They’d gone that far because they were searching for something to hate. Something to grasp onto that would make her seem terrible and justify their fantasies.

But his fears were somewhat lessened by the fact that, at least for these people waiting, not a one of them had said a negative thing about her. As a matter of fact, as he glanced up at all of them, they seemed pleased as punch. That made him smile genuinely. 

“How’d you two meet?” asked someone else.

“We bumped into each other at a park actually,” he said. 

And they awed. He laughed at them. “You all are too cute.”

More awes.

Luke appeared at his elbow again to move him along. Tom looked at the people. “I’m so sorry I can’t get to all of you, but we’ll miss the film if we don’t go in now.”

At a chorus of whines and pouts, Anna finally stepped up to his side. The fans were not to be outdone. The same young woman shouted at Anna. “Anna!”

Anna paused and turned her dazzling smile on the girl. “Yes, my dear?”

“Treat him well, yeah?”

Anna laughed pleasantly. “I have every intention of it. I wouldn’t want to anger his army.”

That gained her loud laughter and squeals. Tom, on the other hand, had a difficult time processing the interaction. And the fact that Anna actually knew the correct “lingo.”

“Trust me, ladies,” Anna said, “you have no greater ally than me.”

And in that moment, Tom realized she had won them over with her indelible charm. He was surprised and relieved and suddenly felt very, very good about all of this. Inviting her tonight wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. And maybe... just maybe... word of this would get out and things would be different than those past relationships damaged by the spotlight. 

Most of all, he was excited he had someone who knew how to handle the spectacle, contain it, and change it so that they were all actually rooting for her instead of trying to tear her down.

With a contented sigh, he slipped an arm back around her as they moved slowly off. “That was amazing. The way you handled them.”

“Huh?” she asked. “Oh, that.”

“Any other women I’ve brought around them they’ve torn to shreds,” he said.

Anna shrugged. “They can tell when you’re happy and feed off of it. And I would rather work with them than be against them... maybe unlike the others, I understand I have to share you with the world at times. That’s part of your job. It’s part of mine.”

He stopped and kissed her soundly, there in front of everyone, and not out of sight of fans or cameras. But he didn’t care. None of his past lovers understood the nature of celebrity quite like she did.

Anna laughed and pushed back on him. “Stop.”

He grinned. “But you know about my army?”

“Amazing what one can find on the internet,” Anna remarked.

Tom felt the heat of a light blush on his face at her jibe about his early web surfing. “It is.”

“As long as they understand that I’m Hiddlestoner numero uno, then we’ll all get along wonderfully,” she replied.

“I love you, Anna Celeste,” Tom said and kissed her again.

She giggled. “You have lipstick on you now.”

He batted his eyelashes. “Is it my color?”

“Not really,” she replied, reaching up to wipe his lips.

Someone cleared their throat nearby. Tom realized that Luke stood in the doorway shooting him daggers. Oh, Luke would have a field day in the morning with all the press. Tom knew he would pay for doing it.

Anna shivered and crossed her arms over her chest as they made it inside the building. Tom glanced down at her with a raised brow. 

“What?” she asked.

“You okay?”

“I’m cold,” she said.

“You should have worn actual clothing then.”

Anna rolled her eyes and elbowed his ribs laughingly. “Don’t knock my dress, buster. A month ago I wouldn’t have been able to wear it, much less step foot outside my apartment with it on. This is my badge of progress and I’m going to wear it proudly.”

Tom grinned. “You’re amazing.”

“I know,” she said with a slight wiggle of her shoulders.

“Goodness, where did all of this _sass_ come from?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You.”

“Me?” Tom frowned. “How did I do it?”

“You’ve filled in all the cracks,” she replied. “You’ve glued all the fractures together somehow. I don’t know how, but you have.”

Tom chuckled. “And to think you wouldn’t give me the time of day there for awhile.”

The handler in front of them stopped by a row of seats and pointed. He allowed Anna to slide past the people waiting first and followed after her into the middle of the row just before the lights started to go down.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you were expecting a more explicit scene before the ending of the story, but I made the executive decision not to write/include it for many reasons. I hope, however, that you have enjoyed following the story with me. This story was difficult to follow through and to write because Anna’s past is such a serious, weighty issue. I hope that I’ve handled it with care and respect while giving you a kind, loving and accepting Tom. I am contemplating a sequel that will be thriller-y, but if I do write it, it won’t be for some time due to other writing projects and completing my thesis. My many, many, many, MANY continued thanks go to all of you have read, reviewed, liked, kudoed, etc along the way. 
> 
> Nine days shy of a year since I began this story, I present to you the conclusion of the tale. Please enjoy it!

Anna realized very early on the day of the benefit that she didn’t miss the frenzy that always came before a show. The stage crew running about trying to fix this light or that speaker, the tech at sound check freaking out because his microphones weren’t picking up on the mixers correctly. Musicians running around in their formal attire, fixing broken strings and oiling valves and shining cymbals and wetting reeds. A conductor trying to maintain all of it in controlled chaos while secretly running through the scores in his head.

And tonight, there were her people added to the mix making the cacophony of sound and frenzy and movement almost unbearable. She didn’t make a habit of traveling around with a huge group of people—she could do hair and makeup on her own—but a high profile event such as this required the lot to make certain she looked her best. There were the hair and makeup girls, the stylist who came with her dress, Eddie attempting to stand back and handle everything Anna didn’t need to worry about, including stage managers coming in and giving time updates or runners delivering bouquet after bouquet of sweet smelling flowers to the room from well wishers.

It was not the ideal atmosphere for anyone trying to remain calm in the face of a very active anxiety disorder trying to pull it all together for one twenty-seven-minute-or-so concerto. Anna knew the music wouldn’t be the problem; it never was. It would be keeping her hands from shaking, or losing her breath, or having a panic attack on stage. Those were issues enough to make anyone fret, but then there had been the call that almost shattered the new calm she had only discovered over the past few weeks.

She had received it around one this afternoon, as she was enjoying another massage and mentally going over the Mendelssohn piece. It was Tom’s ringtone, so she answered it without thinking anything of it. But he laid it on her without sugarcoating it. They’d had a minor issue on set and they were trying to get everything up and running to be done at a reasonable time, but he wasn’t sure it would happen. With the delay in filming, it could mean that he wouldn’t even make it to the gala party afterwards. Anna had lost her breath. Her chest at tightened at the thought that he wouldn’t be there like they had planned. Honestly, for a moment, she hadn’t known how she would be able to go on and do it without him in the audience.

But then she remembered that with or without him, she had to tackle this herself; she had to make the choice to take this step to reclaim her life. Even though he had been there at her side cheering her on for the past month in all her growth, it was not _because_ of his actions that she had decided to do it. Certainly, his being constantly in her mind may have done something initially, but all the decisions she had made were not because he had enabled her. He had given her the choice at every point in their relationship. He made sure she invited him up soaking wet that afternoon of the rain storm. He had wanted to kiss her, but didn’t until she chose to make the move. He had said he would only take the holiday up to her parents if she wanted him to do it, which she had. _She_ had asked him to sleep in the same bed with her. She chose whether or not he stayed or left from her apartment when they returned. She had given him the permission to undress her.

So even though he had not really done anything but stand by her as a rock if she needed to steady herself, Anna wished he would make it so he could see how much it meant to her. She wanted to show him how much power he had given back to her, sometimes in the most innocuous of ways.

There would be other times, of course, that she could show him what he meant to her, but she had so hoped for this opportunity. It was hard not to become discouraged despite the fact that she knew this wouldn’t be the first or last time something like this would happen. Not with who they were and what each of them did for a living. She had to grow a pair, for lack of a better term, and soldier on. That was what anyone would tell her in the same predicament. Perhaps not in so many words or in such florid language, but they would.

However, none of it mattered because she was still constantly checking her cell phone every five minutes to see if he had sent a text or called.

The show began at eight, but she wasn’t due on until nine-ish, after the intermission. There would be time for him to show his face. There would be time. She repeated this mantra, trying to remain as positive as possible as she warmed up on the violin and tuned. As she stepped into the purple floor length gown. As the makeup people did one final pass of lipstick and powder. As the hairstylist slipped an errant piece of hair back into a pin holding the intricate up-do on her head. As the stage manager came into the room again with a warning that intermission had begun—fifteen minutes until she took the stage.

When he still hadn’t called, she sighed and turned her phone off. Now was the time to do, not to worry. Still, she stood from her seat and began to breathe in and out slowly as she paced the room. In her periphery, Eddie asked everyone to leave the room to give her a few moments alone. She was grateful, but she didn’t really listen to him when he tried to calm her. She felt like her head was in water, fuzzy and unable to make out the words coming from his lips. But she managed to fake it enough for him to step outside the room and shut the door.

Anna walked across the room and leaned on the countertop in front of the large lightbulb-framed mirror. She pressed her palms down on the cool, smooth surface and hung her head, working through her breathing exercises. 

_Slow in through the nose. Slow out through the mouth. In, out, in, out,_ she repeated in her head.

The buzzing and ringing slowly faded and the sounds outside became more clear. A cymbal crashed on the floor near the dressing room door, suddenly bringing her world into focus. The clarity was amazing. She no longer felt helpless, rather in control and ready to face the world.

Anna reached for a tissue to dab at the corners of her watery eyes. She didn’t turn when the door clicked open. “Just give me a minute, Eddie.”

“You have five,” said the voice of the only person in the world she wanted.

Anna turned around and let out a heaving sigh. “So I only have three before I need to leave the room.”

Tom’s well-tailored tuxedo looked amazing on his frame, and he didn’t appear rushed at all. As a matter of fact, he seemed rather calm, cool, and collected. A small purple ribbon had been pinned to his lapel—they’d been giving those out much earlier. Like he’d been around the whole time. “Sorry I’m late,” he said as he stepped across the room. “I arrived just as they were going on and they wouldn’t let me backstage until now.”

Anna nodded and tried to contain herself, but she alternately wanted to let the tears of joy burst or sigh in relief. She did neither as he kissed her and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting squeeze.

“You are positively stunning,” he said softly, lips brushing her ear.

Anna sucked in a breath and let out a low chuckle, clenching her fingers in the soft fabric of his coat. “I’m so glad you made it. Did you get the scene done?”

“I have a small confession to make,” he answered.

She pushed back. “What?”

“I didn’t really have to work today,” he said. “That was just a ruse.”

“A... ruse?” she asked, confused.

He nodded his head and bit his lip. His expression was mischievous. “I told you I wouldn’t miss it.”

“But...” she began, “why did you have to lie about it?”

“Because I didn’t know if what I had planned would actually happen,” he said.

“Are you going to enlighten me about whatever it was you were planning?” she asked.

Tom laughed. “Not yet. It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises!” she said in annoyance.

“You’ll like this one,” Tom said. “At least I hope you do. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but you know how I feel about surprises,” she said.

“Come on, live a little,” he teased.

“Need I remind you that I paid my nieces off so they could dig for information on the gift you got me for my birthday so I wouldn’t be surprised?”

He merely pressed his lips to her cheek and stepped away. “Anna, my love, please just go with it.”

She huffed. “Fine. But now that’s all I’ll be thinking about.”

“Better than worrying about performing in front of people,” he said.

Anna rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to retort, but the side door opened again to reveal Eddie. He looked between them for a moment and then at the violin sitting on the chair across the room. “It’s time,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

Tom pulled her close and kissed her again. “I better go take my seat. Break a leg.”

He slipped from the room before she had a moment to process it. Eddie stood in the doorway and smiled at her. “You know, I’m starting to warm up to that guy.”

“Oh, god,” Anna said, smoothing her hands over the bodice of her dress and adjusting the straps on her shoulders. Once she was comfortable, she retrieved her violin and bow and followed Eddie out of the room. “The world is going to end if you actually end up friends with him.”

“Hey, I never said anything about friendship,” Eddie replied. “I just meant he isn’t as much of a jerk as I originally thought.”

“Uh huh,” Anna nodded. They made their way around the backstage to the right wing of the stage.

“Ah! There you are, Anna, my dear!” Sir David exclaimed. “Are you ready?”

Anna sighed again, glimpsing the stage with all the musicians preparing for the second half of the show. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Lovely,” he replied.

The buzz of voices suddenly quieted outside; the backstage area lights lowered with the audience lights. Eddie leaned into her and whispered, “You’ve got this, beautiful.”

Anna giggled lightly and took a deep breath. “I do got this.”

“Yes, you do,” Sir David murmured beside her.

The concertmaster began tuning the orchestra. Anna lifted her violin to tune along with them, and then lowered the instrument, content at its tuning. She gulped down more air to fortify her nerves. The orchestra quieted. She was going to do this and it would be amazing.

“After you, my dear,” Sir David remarked, motioning for her to go out ahead of him onstage.

Anna nodded her head, exhaled, and after a beat stepped out from the wing into view of the audience. The energy from the crowd was nearly instantaneous, as was their applause. She’d never received so much of it before she even performed her show. Blessedly, the audience was just as she had hoped—welcoming and supportive—and she knew that bar completely messing up the concerto, she would come out of this with flying colors.

So she walked around the large orchestra, holding her violin and bow in her left hand and lifting the hem of her dress just slightly so she did not trip. When she made it to her spot beside Sir David’s podium, she took a breath and smiled as she peered out into the crowd. It was impossible to see anyone beyond the front row with the harsh stage lights shining in her eyes; it would be for the better, so she didn’t become distracted by Tom sitting in the middle of the house. It would be enough just to know he was there. Somewhere.

Anna shook the hand of the concertmaster followed by Sir David’s, and with another breath placed the violin on her shoulder, adjusting it to comfort. She looked to Sir David with a nod, who held up his baton, giving his orchestra the downbeat.

Like magic, despite all the worrying she had done and all the pain she had survived, the energy, the emotion, and the excitement of performing flooded back into her system. As she drew her bow across the string for the first note of her concerto, she was back in her own world. Nothing had ever felt this right and certainly nothing had ever felt so amazing. It felt like a cold drink of water in the middle of the Sahara.

All was suddenly right with the world as she lost herself in the music.

  
  


As Anna struck the last few forceful notes and held the last one to its completion, she sucked in a breath and held it, not knowing what to expect. Tears burned her eyes and threatened to spill over with the passion and energy of the performance followed by the cathartic release that came with finally finding triumph over one’s fears.

She knew she had hit every note as it should have been played, but there was no telling what the others in the audience had thought. The last of the sound disappeared into the abyss of the dark auditorium and for the first time in the twenty-seven minutes she had been playing, she looked toward the audience as they erupted into loud cheers and applause.

She had done it.

Breathing out, she pressed a free hand to her abdomen to quell the riotous butterflies beating their wings madly in her belly. She bowed. And that was when the tears reached capacity and began to spill over. Anna quickly wiped at the few that had fallen, turning to motion at the orchestra and Sir David as they each took their bows.

The house lights came up slightly, revealing more of the audience to her as she accepted more of their applause. When she turned to look to the right wing, Eddie was coming out carrying a large bouquet of red roses. He stopped in front of her and presented the bouquet that she accepted. He kissed each cheek quickly and squeezed her shoulders. Then he disappeared again.

Anna bowed once more at the continued applause, knowing it was now time to leave the stage. She gathered her dress in the hand with the violin and bow and walked off stage. The clapping continued for some time after she had gone backstage, but she did not go back out. She was too dizzy and breathless to do so.

She handed off her violin and flowers to a stagehand and stood back as musicians slowly began to exit the stage. The sound of the audience dispersing filled her ears, so she stood still, watching and waiting. Waiting for what, exactly, she didn’t know, but it was in that moment that Tom’s voice finally pulled her out of her head. As it always did.

“Anna,” coaxed his voice. She looked up at him, blinking a few times to bring him into focus. He swooped in and grabbed her in his arms. “That. Was. Amazing!”

She giggled. “Thank you.”

He set her down and kissed her quickly but soundly before stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Anna chuckled, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “I’m kinda stoned right now... all the tension and energy was zapped from my body. Euphoria has set in.”

“I completely get it,” he said with a laugh. “But I have your surprise for you.”

Anna looked at him askance. “Now’s probably the best time for it. I’m too exhausted to complain.”

He shook his head and turned her around. It took her some time to recognize what she was looking at, but then it all made sense. “Their flight was delayed because of snow in New York, so I wasn’t sure they’d make it in time... but I was late because I said I would wait for them.”

The tears she had barely been able to rein in on the stage surged over their barriers as she recognized her father, mother and siblings about ten feet away from her. They all had tears in their eyes, but none of them said a thing as she hugged each one of them in turn. She’d never seen her family so speechless; nothing needed to be said. It was enough to be together; Tom had truly orchestrated a gift beyond measure. She had not realized just how much she had actually want them there, despite how they had left it a few weeks prior.

After a few more minutes of crying and hugging, Gabriel finally cleared his throat and thrust his hand out at Tom. Tom looked at the large hand skeptically and then darted his gaze to Gabe’s as he accepted the handshake. “Thank you, Tom.”

Tom grinned. “Does this mean I’m out of the doghouse?”

Gabe harrumphed but nodded his head. “I suppose so. Anyone who can bring the old Anna back is okay in my book.”

Tom shook his head and stepped back. “I didn’t do anything. Anna did this herself because she is amazing.”

“Oh, stop,” Anna laughed, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. “You already have me. You don’t have to keep buttering me up.”

He smiled. “What? It’s the truth.”

“It is the truth,” Eddie’s voice interrupted the reunion. “I hate to break this party up, but they’re all asking for Anna, and she still has to change into her dress for the gala. You guys can go on ahead.”

Anna turned to Tom. “I’ll only be a few minutes. Will you be here so we can leave together?”

“I’ll always be here, Anna,” he replied lowly. “No matter what.”

She grinned and kissed him lightly. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” he replied. “But Eddie’s giving me a look.”

“Then I better go. He said you were just getting on his good side,” Anna said. “Wait here.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to sit right down over there,” he pointed to a folding chair across the walkway, “and wait for you.”

With a nod of her head, she quickly moved back to the dressing room with a new spring to her step. Duty called, but the future looked very bright.

She couldn’t wait to experience it all with Tom at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music in final chapter: Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in E Minor (3 movements) by Hilary Hahn


End file.
